The Art of the Heist
by SnowPrincess88
Summary: Based on the '70s TV show. What was supposed to be an easy trip to Jamaica to apprehend art smugglers, quickly turns violent as new clues lead the Hardys to wonder who's really a friend…and who wants them dead.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story is set at the beginning of the third season of the1970s TV series. It follows my story "The Ancient Highland Curse", but you don't have to read that to understand what is happening here. Many, many thanks to my betas, JD and Kennac, without whom, this story would never have seen the light of day. Thank you both for your long-suffering and patience. LOL

Chapter 1

"Uh, Frank, a little help here?" Blond-haired Joe Hardy cast an annoyed glance in his brother's direction as the three large suitcases he'd struggled to maneuver from the airport baggage carousel toppled over on one another. He watched as they fell to the ground in a domino effect, sending the smaller bags he'd placed on top of the suitcases skittering across the tile floor.

"Yeah, sure," Frank said.

Joe watched as his dark-haired brother picked up his carry-on from the pile and slung it over his shoulder, not looking up once from the legal pad he was reading.

"Thanks," Joe said, not even trying to contain the sarcasm in his voice as he turned back to the carousel. He gazed around as he waited for another small suitcase to make its way to him on the conveyor belt.

The sound of a steel-drum band playing in the distance caught Joe's attention, and he smiled. This was definitely a beautiful place. He inhaled deeply as the scent of tropical flowers, heavy in the air, reached him. Hopefully this case wouldn't take up all of his time. He sighed thinking how great relaxing on a Jamaican beach sounded right about now.

Frank's voice interrupted his daydream. "Where's Emily?" he asked, referring to Joe's beautiful, dark-haired girlfriend of the past two months.

Joe gestured over his shoulder. "Restroom." He looked at Frank. "Man, am I planning on having some fun here."

"Um, do I need to remind you that we're here on a case? You know, working?"

Joe shrugged. "How long can it take to track down some art smugglers? I mean, it sounds like these guys are just laundering this art through the resort, right?" He straightened the pile of suitcases again. "So, we follow them, find out where the art is going, call in the feds, they arrest them, and boom...Emily and I are lying on the beach together, soaking up the sun."

"Uh huh," Frank said. "And since when has any case we've been on ever gone that smoothly?"

"There's always a first time, bro."

Frank pointed across the room to a man arranging luggage carts. "I just spoke with that guy. He's from the hotel and he said they'll get our bags and put them on the shuttle for us."

Joe looked past Frank to read the name of the resort on the poster behind the shuttle desk. "The Hibiscus? Is that where we're staying?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Frank, that's a couples resort."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's for honeymooners." He shook his head. "You haven't heard of it?"

"Why would I?" Frank asked. "And what do you know about it anyway?"

"Emily's roommate, Stacey. She's getting married this spring, and that's where she's going on her honeymoon." Joe sighed. "You have to be married to stay there."

"Well, maybe I read the dossier wrong." Frank reached for a large envelope in his carry-on bag.

"Let me see." Joe took the envelope and started shuffling through its contents. "Oh, brother." He slapped a piece of paper with the back of his hand. "How could you miss this?"

"What?"

"Look at these reservations. For 'Mr. and Mrs. Joe Hardy' and 'Mr. and Mrs. Frank Hardy.'" Joe shoved the papers back at Frank's chest.

"_Mrs._Frank Hardy?"

"That would be the female operative the feds assigned you. Remember? Dad mentioned her last night." Joe grinned. "Glad I'm not you."

"What are you talking about?" Frank looked startled. "I'm not staying in the same room with some woman I don't even know."

"Well, you'll sure get to know her," Joe said with a chuckle.

"How could Dad do this to me?" Frank stuffed the papers back into the envelope.

"Pretty sure he had no idea."

Frank sighed. "This is already turning into the case from hell and we're not even out of the airport."

Joe looked over as Emily emerged from the restroom, having changed into a pale pink sundress, and began walking toward him.

"Oh geez, she's going to kill me," Joe predicted. "She'll think I arranged all this on purpose."

Frank smirked. "Good luck."

Emily was all smiles as she walked up to Joe. "Gosh, isn't it beautiful here? Even the air smells heavenly."

He winked at her. "You changed your outfit."

"Yes," she said with a giggle. "I couldn't stand to be in those heavy winter clothes for one more minute." He watched as she put her hand on her hip and struck a fashion model pose. "Do you like it?"

A slow grin spread across Joe's face as his eyes wandered from his girlfriend's vivid green eyes down the sexy curves of her body. "You're beautiful, baby" he told her as he put his arm around her shoulders.

He spotted the advertisement for the resort in his peripheral vision and it jolted him back into reality. "Listen Em, whatever happens here in the next few minutes, please remember I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I swear."

"What are you talking about?" Emily looked up as the driver from the shuttle approached them.

"You have reservations at the Hibiscus, correct?" the driver asked, as he loaded their suitcases onto a luggage cart.

"Yes," Frank confirmed.

Emily snapped her head around and stared at Joe, who gave her a feeble smile.

"Mr. and Mrs. Joe Hardy?" the man asked.

Joe cleared his throat and raised his hand in acknowledgement. "Um, yeah, right here."

The shuttle driver nodded, then looked to Frank. "Mr. and Mrs. Frank Hardy?"

"Yes," Frank replied. "My wife will be joining me at the hotel. She had some business that detained her arrival."

The driver shrugged, made some notations on a clipboard, then called back, "This way to the van."

Joe took advantage of the moment by whispering into Emily's ear. "Honey, I promise I'll explain all of this to you when we get to the hotel."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Joe paused. Her tone seemed pleasant enough, but he couldn't be too sure. After all, he did just inform her she would have to share a hotel room with him. On the surface, Joe knew that looked bad. As in trying to get her into bed in a sneaky, underhanded way, bad. He exhaled forcefully. Maybe Frank was right…this was turning into the case from hell.

OOOoooOOO

Joe watched as Emily sat down on a wicker loveseat in the bright, sunshine-yellow lobby of the Jamaican hotel, while he and Frank finished checking in.

He fidgeted nervously with his room key and cast furtive glances in his girlfriend's direction, trying to discern her mood, while Frank completed his paperwork at the registration desk.

"Will you relax," he hissed to Joe. "You're going to draw attention to us."

"Sorry." Joe exhaled slowly and deliberately. "Um, okay, I'm going over to talk to Emily."

Frank nodded. "Good."

"As soon as you're finished here."

Frank rolled his eyes at his brother, then turned to the desk clerk who handed him the key to his room. He smiled his thanks and glanced at Joe. "Listen, I'm going to head upstairs. I'll go over the dossier and see what we need to do next."

"Okay," Joe agreed. "Has your _wife_ checked in yet?"

Frank shook his head. "I'm sure she'll be here soon enough." He nudged Joe and smiled. "Hey, good luck, bro."

Joe glanced sideways to where Emily was sitting. "Yeah, thanks."

As Frank picked up his carry-on bag and strolled over to the elevator, Joe squared his shoulders and walked over to Emily.

"Hi," he said to her.

"Hi, yourself."

Joe sat down next to her and took her hand, "Emily, you've got to believe me, I had nothing to do with these arrangements."

"I know."

"I mean, I know it looks bad, but..." He stopped. "What did you say?"

"I know you didn't." A little smile escaped her lips.

He stared at her dumbfounded. She didn't look angry. In fact, wait…was she smiling?

"Joe, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, "I don't know what to say. I wasn't prepared for this conversation. I have a whole different one worked out in my head."

Emily laughed, then leaned in and surprised him with a kiss. "I'm not mad at you. I know you and Frank didn't have anything to do with this."

"Really? You're not mad?" His voice still held a note of disbelief. Wow, she wasn't mad. Maybe this vacation would turn out to be more romantic than he'd thought. They were in Jamaica…the sun, the surf, the king-size bed…

"I'm not." She squeezed his hand. "Besides, I trust you. I know you would never take advantage of the situation."

He gave her a somewhat grim smile, knowing all his plans for seduction had just flown out the window. "No, sweetie, I wouldn't." At least not tonight.

She fingered the room key in Joe's hand. "Shall we go then?"

He stood up and took her by the hand. Something by the front door caught his eye, and Joe paused to look. "Oh. My. Gosh."

"What?" Emily turned to follow his gaze.

"Frank is going to flip."

"What? What is it?"

"Nancy Drew," he said with a chuckle, as he watched the female investigator cross the lobby. "This is going to get interesting."

"Who's Nancy Drew?"

"Oh, she's a detective. We've worked together on a few cases before," Joe explained. "She and Frank have a rather...complicated...relationship."

"Complicated? What exactly does that mean?"

Joe turned to Emily. "It means that they're crazy about each other, but neither one of them is willing to admit it. So instead, they fight and argue constantly. They haven't spoken since our last case together. And now, I'm willing to bet you a million dollars she is the new Mrs. Frank Hardy."

He watched as Nancy took a manila envelope out of her purse, checked its contents and headed to the registration desk.

Joe gestured for Emily to follow him. They positioned themselves on one side of a potted palm tree, within earshot of Nancy.

OOO

"Hello, I'm here to meet my husband. I believe he's already checked in. Room six-forty-three," Nancy said to the clerk.

"Oh, yes." The clerk handed Nancy her room key. "Mrs. Frank Hardy."

She removed her sunglasses. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Joe stepped out from behind the palm tree. "He said, 'Mrs. Frank Hardy.'"

Nancy turned around when she heard the familiar voice. "Joe!" She faltered for a moment, then remembered the desk clerk was listening.

"I'm so happy you and your new wife decided to join us on this vacation." Nancy smiled at him, then looked from Emily to Joe. "You know, you really surprised us when you eloped. It's so nice that I can finally meet the woman who managed to tame my playboy brother-in-law."

"Oh." Joe put his arm over Emily's shoulders. "Nancy, I'd like you to meet Emily Cl…Hardy."

She was about to shake Emily's hand when Joe pointed to the desk clerk who was waiting for Nancy to finish signing her registration forms.

"Um, we'll meet you over by the elevators when you're finished," Joe said.

Nancy signed the form, "Mrs. Frank Hardy" with a little more pressure on her pen than was necessary, picked up her purse and walked over to Joe and Emily.

"So," she asked brightly, "Does Frank know I'm here?"

"Nope." Joe grinned. "I'm sure this is going to be the surprise of his life."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure." She turned to Emily. "Do you work for the agency?"

"No," Joe said. "She's my girlfriend. Dad wanted her along because she's an art history major, and he thought Frank and I could use her help."

Nancy nodded. "Nice to meet you, Emily."

"You too, Nancy," she said with a smile.

"Well," Nancy began with a sigh, "I guess I'd better go greet my husband."

Joe chuckled. "Yeah, why don't you guys give us a call after you're settled in, and we'll get together and talk."

She nodded, her lips in a tight line as she pushed the elevator button. "Wish me luck," she called out as she stepped inside.

Joe turned to Emily. "Yeah, she's going to need it."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Wow! Thanks for all the amazing reviews, TxMedic, Leya, Killian, Virtute, Kenna and Jackie! You all made my day! And I'm so glad you're happy to see Nancy. I loved how Pamela Sue Martin played her on the show and I loved the chemistry she had with Frank. It just bugged me that they never took it further than that one kiss. Oh, and for those unfamiliar with the show, you might want to check out the episode "Case of the Hollywood Phantom" on the web's biggest video site (you all know what that is ;-) ). That TV episode will be referenced more than once in this story. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2

Frank Hardy. Seriously, Frank Hardy? Of all the people she could have been paired up with…no, married to…the agency chose Frank. Nancy couldn't help the little smile that crossed her lips over that thought. She needed to stop that. She was not going to allow personal feelings to intrude this time. A sigh escaped her. If he was still half as good looking as he was on that case in LA, she was in so much trouble.

Her face reddened as she remembered the last day they'd spent in Los Angeles. He'd kissed her. On the lips. If Joe hadn't interrupted them, she was sure things would have progressed to something much more. She swooned a little at the memory. Even though the kiss was brief, it had been perfect. He had the most amazing lips. Ugh. Why did she always turn into some giddy, twelve year old, teeny-bopper when she thought of Frank? Besides it was only one kiss. And the whole ridiculous episode ended right where it should have. In the lobby.

Thanks to Joe's intrusion, all the other detectives had approached them and insisted everyone go out for a celebratory lunch, and Nancy had never gotten a chance to speak with Frank privately after that. And then Ned had shown up. Supposedly on an overnight layover from a business trip in San Francisco, but Nancy knew darn well there were plenty of direct flights from San Francisco to Chicago and the detour was only another sign of Ned's constant and continuing insecurity over Frank .

She sighed as she stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall. Frank had completely changed after that. The cordial goodbye handshake he'd given her at the airport was proof enough that his interest in her had cooled considerably. Well, that and the fact that she'd not heard one word from him in the past six months. And now she had to be his wife. Perfect.

Nancy paused for a moment in front of room six-forty-three. She lifted her hand to knock, but stopped just short of doing it. _Come on, Nancy. Be a professional__. _Quickly, she gave four light raps on the door with her knuckles. No one answered.

It sounded like he wasn't in there. She sighed again and inserted her key in the lock_. _Actually, this will make things easier, she told herself as she entered the room.

The interior was bright and cheerful, decorated in the sunny colors of the Caribbean, with contrasting dark wood furniture_. _Nice, very nice_._ She saw Frank's suitcase open on the mahogany luggage stand, but no sign of Frank. Hmm. Since he wasn't anywhere around, she thought she'd take some time to freshen up a little.

Nancy headed through a small archway, leading to the dressing area of the room. "Wow," she whispered, as she took in the vanity area with its large mirrors and marble sinks.

She glanced up just as Frank emerged from behind the closed door of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips.

"Nancy!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Her eyes dropped to the ground. "Um, hi, Frank. I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were in the shower."

Frank tightened his towel. "Yeah, well you still haven't explained what you're doing here."

"The agency sent me. I'm here to work on the case."

"What?" Frank shook his head. "Don't tell me you're the female operative Dad was talking about?"

"Yeah. Um, listen, I'm going to wait in the other room. I think I'll feel more comfortable talking to you with your clothes on." She hurried through the door into the main part of the hotel room, leaned back against the wall and exhaled, trying to compose herself. Oh my word! That chest, those abs, that….towel. Was she staring? Oh crap, she hoped she wasn't staring…noticeably.

Three minutes later Frank entered the room, wearing blue jeans and pulling a white t-shirt over his head. "Hey, I'm sorry if I sounded irritated in there. You caught me off guard."

She waved her hand in the air. "It's okay. Really. You kind of caught me by surprise, too."

"All right, then. Let's start over." He smiled. "Nancy, it's great to see you again."

"You too, Frank." She smiled and held out her hand.

He shook it, then said, "I think we can do a little better than that. Especially if we're supposed to be posing as husband and wife."

Nancy blushed at that thought. "Yeah, of course." She gave him an awkward hug, then changed the subject, hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt. "I saw Joe downstairs. He was with his girlfriend...?"

"Emily Clark," Frank filled in. "Yeah, she's terrific." He sat down on one of the chairs surrounding a small mahogany table in the corner of the room. "Joe actually met her on a case."

"Really? Is she a detective?"

"No, she was the victim in a complicated museum heist. She's here because of her knowledge of art." Frank gave a little laugh. "And because Joe can't bear to be separated from her for more than fifteen minutes."

"Oooh, sounds serious," Nancy teased.

"Yeah, I think it is."

"Well, that surprises me." She shook her head. "Joe Hardy, serious about a girl? Bess Marvin is going to be heartbroken when I tell her, you know."

"Aw, I think she'll bounce back," Frank said. "If I recall, Bess Marvin is the female Joe Hardy when it comes to romance."

"That's true," Nancy agreed. "But she really does have a soft spot for him."

She watched as Frank leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. The smile that always made her weak in the knees. Every single time she saw it.

"So tell me, how are you doing, Nan? How's your father and...Ned?"

She leaned against the dresser, trying not to appear flustered. "Oh, I've just been keeping busy with the usual. And Dad's fine. Working."

"And Ned?"

"I'm sure Ned's fine, too." Why on earth was he asking her about Ned?

"You sound like you don't know."

"Well, actually, Ned and I broke up about six months ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Frank said.

"No, it's okay. He just finally gave me an ultimatum. Give up detective work, or give up Ned." And give up cases where she worked with the Hardy brothers. Nancy gave Frank a pointed look. "I guess you can see which one I chose."

"Yeah, detective work was always a huge issue with you two, if I recall."

"Well, it's all for the best, really," she said, then grinned. "Besides, Ned would be having an absolute fit about this case if we were still a couple." And that was putting it mildly.

"Yeah, I guess you being 'Mrs. Frank Hardy' for awhile would pretty much push him over the edge." He laughed. "He never really liked me did he?"

"Well...no." In fact, on the plane ride home, he'd told her in no uncertain terms how much he disliked Frank. She'd defended him, and they broke up.

"That's okay. He kind of got on my nerves, too."

Nancy shifted from one foot to the other. Ned Nickerson was the last person she wanted to discuss with Frank. No need to remind him of the case in LA. She was going to be strictly professional. Yes, she was. "Um, so, I promised Joe we would call him after we got settled and go over some of the details of this case."

"That sounds good," agreed Frank. "I'll call him. Maybe we can meet and have some lunch."

Nancy nodded as Frank walked over to the phone.

She exhaled, then chastised herself in a whisper, "Nice, Drew. You can now wear the title 'Queen of Awkward Conversations' proudly."

OOOoooOOO

One hour later, Frank, Nancy, Joe and Emily were seated at the large natural wicker table in Joe and Emily's hotel room, with a room service lunch, and papers from their dossiers spread out in front of them.

"Okay, so basically we've got about a day and a half before the suspects get here, is that what they're saying?" Frank asked, looking over his papers, and sneaking in a glance or two at Nancy in the process. She got prettier every time he saw her.

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "It looks like our main suspects – this Paul and Gina Brookfield – are scheduled to arrive here on Wednesday."

"Well, that's good. That should give us time to familiarize ourselves with our surroundings," Nancy said, popping a piece of fresh pineapple in her mouth.

Joe smiled at Emily. "And maybe have a little fun, too."

"Joe, we're here to work, remember?" Frank prodded him.

"Yes, but all work and no play makes Joe a dull boy," he said with a chuckle.

"All right," Nancy interrupted. "So, what we know is that the suspects have been observed by agents entering Jamaica with smuggled art pieces, but they can't determine what happens to them afterwards."

"Yeah, sounds like a simple case of surveillance to me," Frank said with confidence.

"Well, yes, to a certain degree," Nancy said. "But it also might be advantageous if one of us 'couples' strikes up a friendship with the Brookfields."

"I don't think so," Frank disagreed. "That will call too much attention to our presence."

"Yes, but it may also give us better access to their personal items, their room, their associates, all kinds of stuff," Nancy said.

"Nancy, if they're here trying to launder artwork, they aren't going to want to be friends with the cute honeymooning couple in the next room. It would just arouse suspicion and cause us problems," Frank said. Why did she always have to argue with him? It was like she did it on purpose.

"How can you be so gosh darn sure of that?" Nancy's voice had an irritated note to it. "They might consider a friendship with another couple at the resort a perfect foil for what they're really doing here."

"No, you're one hundred percent wrong on this one," Frank insisted, a slight edge in his tone. Her eyes got more blue when she was mad. They were the color of sapphires now. And why was he noticing that when she was doing nothing but being a pain in the rear? As usual.

Joe looked at Emily. "See what I mean?"

"Yeah." Emily shook her head. "Are they always like this?"

"They're just getting warmed up." Joe leaned forward and waved his arms between the Frank and Nancy. "Time out," he called.

They turned and stared at him.

"Let's not worry about that right now," Joe said. He smiled at Emily. "Why don't you tell us something about art smuggling."

Frank glanced over and watched Emily look at Nancy, and then at him, smiling like a cat who ate a canary. Joe must have been feeding her crap about him and Nancy…he could tell. He sighed. He would deal with him later_. _

Emily cleared her throat. "Well, art smuggling is much more common than you'd think. There's really a lot of money to be made in it, and unfortunately, some people are willing to pay whatever it takes to own something special."

"Why would someone want to buy a stolen piece of artwork?" Joe asked. "I mean, it's not like you can display it or anything."

Emily shrugged, "It usually goes to private collectors, who just want to have their own personal Rembrandt, Monet or Picasso. Now I'm referring to art that's blatantly stolen, and then resold on the black market. Then of course, there's art forgery. That's very prevalent also, but very under-reported as a crime."

"Why is that?" Nancy asked.

"Embarrassment on the part of the buyer, whether the buyer is a private collector or a museum. No one wants to admit they've been taken," Emily explained. "See, every piece of artwork sold has to come with a provenance."

"A prov-uh...what?" Joe asked with a chuckle.

"A provenance is a series of documents that accompanies an art piece. It verifies its authenticity. A signature on a painting isn't enough to say it's a Renoir, for example. You need to have to proper documentation... previous owners, country of origin, proper certification stamps, lots of things," Emily said.

"Are these documents easy to fake?" Frank asked as he picked up his pen. Take notes. If he was writing, he couldn't look at Nancy. He wouldn't look at Nancy. He wouldn't. He snuck a glance at her out of the corner of his eye while Emily continued speaking.

"Well, I wouldn't say they're easy to fake, but it has been done. Sadly, with some very famous pieces, in some very prestigious museums and auction houses."

"Hmmm, okay, so we need to determine if we're dealing with real art that's being stolen, or fakes being passed off as real art being stolen." Joe looked up. "Did that make any sense?"

"Yeah, actually it did." Frank turned to Emily. "Could you study these documents that the agency gave us and try to make heads or tails of some of this art?"

"Of course."

"Wait a minute." Joe held up his hand in protest. "She can do that later...after we all go out and have some fun."

Frank sighed. "Do I have to remind you again this soon that we're here to work?"

"Frank, going out and having fun is part of this assignment. We're here on our honeymoon, remember?" Joe grinned. "We don't want to arouse suspicion among other guests or the staff, do we? I mean, we don't know who else at this resort may be behind all this."

"He's right, Frank," Nancy agreed, turning toward him with a smile. "Let's go have some fun."

And…he was finished. He could not resist those eyes. Or that smile. He glanced down and caught a glimpse of Nancy's shapely calves. Or those legs. "All right, what should we do first?"

"There's a great, big, beautiful beach out there," Joe suggested, gesturing toward the open French doors.

"Sounds terrific," Frank agreed and smiled, thinking he would like nothing better than to spend a few hours with Nancy in the sand and surf. Maybe it would loosen her up a little. She might even start seeing things his way.

"Oh, gosh." Nancy snapped her fingers. "I can't believe it. I was in such a hurry this morning, I forgot to pack a bathing suit."

"Oh, don't worry," Emily reassured her. "There's a shop down in the lobby with some really cute suits in the window. I'll go with you, if you want. I'd love a new bathing suit."

"Okay." Nancy smiled and stood. "Let's go." She stopped and turned back to face Frank and Joe before she and Emily walked through the hotel room door. "We'll meet you on the beach in forty-five minutes."

"Aye, aye, captain," Frank muttered under his breath.

OOO

Joe laughed as the door closed after the girls. "Come on, Frank. We all know how you really feel about Nancy. Just admit it."

"What? That she is the single most aggravating girl I've ever met?" Frank began to pace back and forth. "That she drives me crazy with her 'know it all' attitude? That she spends fully half of every case we're on together, yelling at me?" He turned to his brother. "Which part of that did you want me to admit?"

Joe sat down on the bed, giving Frank a knowing look. "You left out the part about how, in spite of all those things, you find her extraordinarily attractive and irresistible."

"Do not."

"Do, too."

"Look," Frank said, "I don't want to talk about Nancy anymore." He stopped and stood in front of Joe. "So tell me, how is Emily taking all of this?"

"By 'all of this', I assume you mean the living arrangements?"

"Yeah."

"She's okay," Joe assured him. "Surprisingly, okay. Meaning, she doesn't blame me for it."

"That's good," Frank said, somewhat absently. "She's a great girl."

"Yeah, I know," he acknowledged, as Frank began pacing again.

Joe watched him for a moment, then said in a sly tone, "In fact, she's such a great girl, I've decided to marry her. Yeah, we're going to have the ceremony tonight on the beach. Hope you brought a tux along."

Frank paused, "What? Oh, yeah, I did." He strolled over to the French doors and gazed out over the azure water.

Joe smirked. _Yeah, you don't like Nancy much, do you Frank?_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thanks for the wonderful feedback, Killian, Leya, Jackie and Virtute! You made my day! This chapter is a little bit of fluff before the suspects arrive and the case ramps up. I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone reading!

Chapter 3

Emily and Nancy were browsing through the clothing racks of the hotel's trendy "Surf Shop", which held a myriad of swimsuits in every color of the rainbow, when Emily held up a powder blue bikini.

"Oooh, Nancy, this one would look great on you!"

"You think?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah, it will really bring out the blue in your eyes." Emily handed it to her, thinking how striking the strawberry-blonde was. No wonder Frank was attracted to her. "Try it on."

"Okay." Nancy took it, and smiled a bit sheepishly. "As you can probably guess by now, shopping isn't really my thing. I usually have my friend Bess do all of this with me. She's a shopping pro."

"No worries." Emily snagged a couple more suits from the rack and handed them to Nancy. "I'm a fairly accomplished shopper myself."

She smiled and pointed Nancy toward the far wall of the store. "The dressing rooms," Emily ordered.

The girls each entered a separate changing room, and began trying on bathing suits.

"So," Nancy's voice carried over the top of the dressing room divider. "Tell me about you and Joe."

Emily laughed. "Well, he rescued me from a nasty kidnapper, and in the process we found each other, so to speak."

She heard the curtain of Nancy's dressing room being opened and her voice in the hallway. "Are you two serious?"

Emily stepped out of her changing room. "I think we're getting there." She appraised Nancy in a yellow and white striped bikini, cocked her head to one side, then said, "No."

As the girls re-entered their dressing rooms, Emily felt it was time for her to do a little detective work of her own. "Um, Nancy?" she asked as she reached for an emerald green bikini that perfectly matched her eyes.

"Yeah?" Nancy's voice sounded strained.

_She's probably trying to get into that complicated string bikini_, Emily thought with a smile. She forced herself to speak in a deliberately innocent tone. "How about you and Frank? I'm kind of sensing there's something between the two of you."

Nancy stuck her head through the curtain. "What do you mean?"

Emily came out of her dressing room wearing the green bikini.

"That looks good on you," Nancy said.

"Thanks," Emily replied. She gestured to Nancy, who exited her changing room holding up a mess of strings around her neck. Emily tied them for her, as she continued her conversation. "I mean it's obvious that you and Frank are attracted to each other. So, why aren't you two an item?"

Nancy snorted, "Attracted to each other?"

Emily waited patiently while Nancy turned from side to side, surveying herself in the mirror, then glanced back at Emily. "This suit is okay, huh?"

She nodded and Nancy continued, "Frank Hardy and I have done nothing but get on each other's nerves since the day we met."

Emily smiled to herself as Nancy re-entered her dressing room, her voice echoing over the top of the curtain. "He is the most pig-headed, chauvinistic, frustrating man I have ever known."

Nancy opened the curtain again, this time wearing the powder blue bikini. Emily gave her the thumbs-up sign, then slipped back into her own dressing room and began changing back into her street clothes.

"He drives me bananas," Nancy concluded.

Joe was right. Nancy was attracted to Frank. Big time. "Well, I don't know what the history is between you two," Emily said, as she exited the changing room and walked with Nancy to the counter to pay for their purchases. "All I can tell you is that I see some major chemistry going on between you."

Nancy rolled her eyes as she handed the clerk some money. "Yeah, well I'm not sure what you're seeing is chemistry." She picked up her bag and they headed for the shop door. "I think it's more like an undercurrent of annoyance."

"I'm still betting on the chemistry thing," Emily said with a laugh. "You two _are _going to have to act like honeymooners around here, you know."

"Don't remind me." Nancy pointed her in the direction of the beach cabanas. "Let's change here. I'm not quite ready to go upstairs and be Frank's wife just yet."

OOOoooOOO

Frank and Joe stepped out from the open-air portion of the hotel lobby onto a boardwalk leading to the pool, and ultimately down to the beach area of the resort.

Frank pulled out his sunglasses and put them on, in response to the bright Caribbean sunshine. "Do you see the girls? It's been forty-five minutes."

Joe scanned the beach area, then pointed. "Right there."

Emily and Nancy had grabbed four of the hotel's blue mesh lounge chairs, and were apparently now situating them where they could absorb the maximum amount of the sun's rays.

Frank chuckled as he watched Joe suck in his breath sharply when Emily stood up, faced their direction, and secured her long, dark hair up into a ponytail. She was wearing her new emerald green bikini, which showed off her slim, shapely figure perfectly.

Joe leaned his hands on the railing of the boardwalk, and said in an unsteady voice, "I'm going to have to marry that girl."

"Yeah, well if you don't, I will," Frank said. His eyes wandered a bit as Nancy removed her terry cloth beach cover-up, exposing her new powder blue bikini. A small smile crossed his lips, which evidently didn't go unnoticed by Joe.

"Your wife catching your eye?"

Frank's smile was broad, but his sunglasses didn't betray the look of longing in his eyes. "Just trying to play the part, bro."

"Yeah, sure." Joe headed for the steps leading to the beach. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to have some fun."

Frank sauntered down the stairs, watching as Joe took off at a brisk pace, reaching the girls about thirty seconds before he did.

Emily squealed as Joe came up behind her, grabbed her around the middle, and hugged her to him. He whispered something in her ear that made her blush, then turned her to face him and kissed her longingly.

"Ahem." Frank cleared his throat as he reached the little group. Joe ignored him and continued to kiss Emily.

Frank turned to Nancy. "I'd tell them to go to their room, except I know that would just lead to more trouble."

Nancy laughed. "Well, this little bit of information is going to finish Bess off." She imitated holding a phone receiver to her ear. "Yeah, Joe was making out with his girlfriend right on the beach." She looked up at Frank. "I can hear her weeping now."

Frank laughed. "So, what do you say we try the water?"

"Okay," she agreed, smiling up at him.

He removed the short-sleeve button down shirt he was wearing as a cover-up and held out his hand to Nancy, who took it in what Frank thought was an uncharacteristically shy manner. "Is that the bathing suit you just bought?"

She nodded.

"It's very pretty," he said, as he openly admired her. "That blue is a good color on you. It matches your eyes."

"Thanks."

Frank smiled as Nancy gave him a bit of an awkward look and let go of his hand. "Last one in is a rotten egg!" she called, dashing into the surf.

OOOoooOOO

Three hours later, Nancy was seated on the edge of the bed, talking on the phone to her friend, Bess Marvin, while Frank headed downstairs to make dinner reservations.

"Yes, I have to play Frank Hardy's wife for the next ten days," Nancy explained.

"Oh my gosh, Nancy, you're kidding?" Bess paused for a second or two. "You're not sounding excited."

"Of course I'm not excited. Frank drives me nuts." Nancy paced as far as the phone cord would allow. "And not in the way you're thinking."

"Oh, how come I can't be on this case with you?" Bess complained. "I always get stuck on the nasty cases...the ones without cute boys and tropical resorts." She giggled. "Is Joe there?" Then, in the next breath and in a bit of a whiny tone, "Oh, and does Joe have some other girl there playing his wife?"

"Um, you'd better sit down for this one, Bess," Nancy said. "Joe is here with his girlfriend."

"Girlfriend!"

Nancy held the phone away from her ear.

"Since when does Joe Hardy have a girlfriend?"

"Um, since a couple of months ago, I guess. He met her on a case. Saved her from some kidnappers, apparently."

"Oh, you're kidding. Please tell me she's not beautiful."

"Sorry, she's gorgeous."

"Oh, Nancy," Bess wailed. "This cannot be happening. Are you sure it's that serious? Maybe they're just pretending, like you and Frank." Bess paused. "Except that you and Frank aren't really pretending either...you're just not admitting your true feelings. Oh, do you think they're serious, Nance?"

"First of all, I don't have any feelings for Frank. If you recall, we haven't spoken for the past six months," Nancy stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "As for Joe, he couldn't keep his hands off Emily on the beach today. And he has this weird mushy look on his face whenever they're together." She hesitated for a moment. "Bess?"

"You really need to work on that diplomacy thing," Bess said in a quiet voice.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, that's okay. It'll only take me about five minutes to burn all his photos. I'll be fine."

"Bess…"

"Really, I'm fine. After I'm done with that, I'm going to have a huge hot fudge sundae and go watch _Casablanca. _I'll be okay, I promise."

"Wait a minute…"

"Call me and let me know how things go with Frank," Bess said. "And Nancy?"

"Yes?"

"Don't let him get away, you two are perfect for each other." With an abrupt click, Bess hung up the phone.

"Maybe she had more of a crush on Joe than I thought."

OOOoooOOO

After a friendly dinner in the hotel restaurant, Frank and Nancy remained seated alone at their table, while Joe and Emily twirled around the dance floor. Nancy watched while Frank adjusted the cuffs of his navy blue suit. The look on his face was clearly one of discomfort.

Nancy smoothed away some imaginary wrinkles in her pale lavender gown. The back was low-cut with woven, criss-cross straps, and she'd had to do the moves of a contortionist to get into it and fasten it together. Her strawberry-blonde hair was done up in a French twist, with a few tendrils escaping around her face for softness.

She glanced at Frank, who was now watching the other couples on the dance floor, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This is stupid. They definitely weren't acting like newlyweds. Not even close. Nancy straightened her spine and turned to Frank.

"Hardy?"

Frank turned to face her. "Yeah?"

"We're supposed to be a married couple here, aren't we?"

Frank hesitated a bit. "Yes."

"On our honeymoon?"

He nodded.

"Then let's start acting like it." Nancy stood up, taking a surprised Frank by the hand and leading him to the dance floor.

"Um, Nan? Dancing isn't necessarily one of my strong points," he informed her.

"Well, we're faking everything else around here, guess you're just going to have to fake that, too." She lifted up his hand and spun herself around.

He chuckled. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."

OOO

Joe looked over and saw Frank and Nancy attempting some fancy moves near the edge of the dance floor. "Look," he said to Emily. "Frank is finally starting to let loose."

Emily smiled. "It was only a matter of time."

OOO

The music changed from a fast-moving disco beat to a slow ballad.

Nancy glanced up at Frank with a determined expression. "Well, Mr. Hardy, are you going to dance with Mrs. Hardy like you're happy you married her?"

A little smile tugged up the corners of Frank's mouth. "Of course." He pulled Nancy close in his arms and began to sway in time with the slower beat.

She tried to ignore the pitter-pat of her heart. "I thought you said you couldn't dance."

He tilted her back slightly. "No, I just can't do all of the moves that 'Mr. Disco' was doing," he said, gesturing to Joe. "This, I'm pretty good at."

Yes, you are, Nancy thought to herself, feeling the light touch of his hand against her bare back. She allowed herself to relax her head against his shoulder, and enjoyed swaying to the rhythm of the music with him. In turn, he pulled her a little closer and bent his head down slightly over hers, as he led her expertly around the dance floor.

When the song came to an end, Frank gave Nancy a kiss on the cheek, then whispered in her ear, "Was that convincing enough?"

Ignoring the shiver running down her back at the feel of his warm breath across her ear, she replied, "Um, yes." Then she looked him squarely in the eyes. "Great job, Hardy."

"Not too bad yourself, Drew," he said with a smile, as they made their way back to the table at the same time as Joe and Emily.

"Looking good out there," Joe said with a grin, as he pulled out Emily's chair for her.

"Yeah, your brother's not half bad," Nancy agreed. "With some practice, who knows?"

"Well, Nance, you work with him, and then we'll have him try out to be a _Solid Gold _dancer," Joe said and laughed.

"Oh yeah, that'll be the day." Frank looked around the room. "You know, this really is a nice place. It seems a shame that we're going to have to spend our time here hunting down criminals."

"Well, if we're lucky, maybe the desperate criminals will cooperate and spend most of their time relaxing by the pool, so we can vacation and investigate at the same time," Nancy suggested.

"Let's toast to that," Joe said, raising his wine glass in the air.

The other three raised theirs as well, clinking them together while Joe exclaimed, "To a fun-filled week with an easy solution to all our problems!"

OOOoooOOO

Frank and Nancy entered their hotel room an hour later and he watched as she walked over to the table, set down her evening bag and slipped off her strappy high-heels.

"Are those things as uncomfortable as they look?"

"Probably more," she winced, as she sat in a nearby chair.

"Well," Frank began, then faltered, feeling a little awkward.

"Well." Nancy said as she stood. "Listen, I'm exhausted. The long flight from Chicago and all. If you don't mind, I think I'll just turn in."

"Um, no, that's fine." Frank glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the pile of papers in his carry-on bag pertaining to the case. "Maybe I'll just do a little bit more reading on art theft."

Nancy nodded then walked over to her suitcase and retrieved something from it. "I'll just go in the bathroom to change." She paused, walked over to Frank and turned around. "Would you mind?"

Frank looked confused. "Mind what?"

"My dress." Nancy gestured to the zipper. "I can't undo it. I think it's stuck."

"Uh, sure." Frank grasped the zipper and pulled it down to its stopping point at the small of her back.

Nancy clutched the front of the dress close to her body so it wouldn't slip, turned and smiled. "Thanks, Hardy."

"You're welcome, Drew," Frank said softly, as he sat down at the table. He opened a file, sifting through documents detailing descriptions of stolen art pieces, not reading any of the information on the pages. He paused as he heard the water running in the bathroom, and rubbed his hand over his eyes. _What are you doing to me, Nancy?_

Meanwhile in the bathroom, Nancy was sincerely regretting packing her suitcase so hastily in River Heights. What on earth had she been thinking? She held her short, silky nightgown with spaghetti straps at arm's length and surveyed it critically. Ugh, how on earth was she going to walk out there wearing this? She sat down on the edge of the extra large whirlpool tub and sighed deeply. Well, there was nothing she could do about it now. Maybe she could borrow something from Emily tomorrow.

Nancy pulled the nightgown over her head and surveyed her reflection in the mirror. "Gosh, I look like I'm issuing an invitation," she muttered. She walked over to the door and hesitated with her hand on the doorknob. Maybe if she was really quiet she could sneak into bed without Frank noticing.

She took a deep breath and opened the door. She tiptoed around the corner and almost all the way to the bed, when Frank's voice stopped her short.

"Nan, are you okay?"

Damn. She looked up and saw Frank staring at her open-mouthed. "Um, I'm fine. Just extremely embarrassed."

"About what?" Frank asked, still not taking his eyes off her.

"This," Nancy gestured to her nightgown. "I'm really sorry, Frank. I packed my suitcase so fast this morning, I was just throwing things in. I certainly didn't mean to...I mean I wasn't planning on..." Nancy let out an exasperated sigh. "I wasn't trying to look trampy."

"You don't look trampy, you look beautiful."

She looked up at him, and then, as the ridiculousness of her situation set in, she suddenly burst out laughing. "Oh, Frank, this is so stupid. I mean, really, look at us."

He joined in on the laughter as he walked over to her. "You're right. It is pretty ridiculous." He took her hands, and all the tension from day drained out of her.

"I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable about any of this," he said. "Look, if you want me to, I'll sleep on the floor tonight. Or, I can go to Joe and Emily's room. Emily can come up here and sleep with you."

"Joe would kill you," Nancy assured him, giggling. "And besides, if anyone is watching us, that would look highly suspicious. You generally don't go stay in your brother's room on your honeymoon."

"Yeah, I guess not," he conceded. "I just don't want you feeling uncomfortable."

"I'm over it. I promise." She grinned at him. "Now, if you don't mind...your trampy little wife is going to hit the hay."

He grinned back and gave Nancy a kiss on the cheek. She closed her eyes at the feel of his soft lips against her skin.

"Okay. I'll just go in the bathroom and get ready myself. I'm pretty beat," Frank said.

He walked over to the bathroom area, then turned and smiled at her. "Goodnight, Mrs. Hardy."

"Goodnight, Mr. Hardy," she replied, as she slipped under the covers and turned off the lights.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thanks for your reviews Jackie and Virtute! I can't tell you how much I look forward to reading them! Oh, and I lied. This chapter is a little on the fluffy side too, but I promise, the mystery comes on the scene in full force in the next one, when the suspects finally arrive at the hotel and the investigating can begin. I hope you all enjoy it and thanks so much to all who are reading!

Chapter 4

Frank smiled a greeting as Emily opened the door of her and Joe's hotel room the next morning.

"Oh hi," she said, her voice chipper despite the early hour. "Come on in."

He stepped through the door and surveyed Emily, clad only in one of Joe's t-shirts and a pair of his boxers, with the waistband folded over a few times to keep them up. He bent his head down to hide the smile on his face.

"How's Nancy?" Emily asked.

"Fine. She's getting dressed." Which was exactly why he was standing there. Hearing the water running and knowing that Nancy was in the shower…naked…was more than he was capable of handling at this hour of the morning. And his thoughts had become decidedly unprofessional as a result.

Frank looked up at Emily. "Joe around?"

At that moment, Joe stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still wet from the shower. He was wearing white tennis shorts and a navy blue polo shirt.

Emily smiled at him. "My turn?"

"All yours, baby." He grinned and stopped her for a kiss as she passed him on the way into the bathroom.

Frank watched as she shut the door behind her, then smirked at Joe.

"Oh, now wait a minute, bro," Joe warned. "Don't go jumping to conclusions."

Frank didn't reply, but instead, walked over to the table and took a seat in one of the chairs. He leaned back, crossed his hands together in front of him, and surveyed the bed with its disheveled covers. It definitely looked like a fun time was had by all. He shot Joe a questioning glance.

"Oh, no." Joe shook his head. "That is purely circumstantial evidence. And believe me, that's all it is. My evening was very chaste." He sat down in the chair opposite Frank.

"You sure about that?" Frank teased. "Emily's wearing your clothes."

"I wanted her to, she fills them out better than I do," he said with a grin. "Seriously, Frank, it's not what you're thinking."

"I'm just giving you a hard time," Frank said. "You don't owe me an explanation about your love life."

"And you won't be getting one." Joe grinned. "How did things go with Nancy?"

"Fine, after the Arctic blast cleared." He laughed. "I think we were both just nervous. I mean, I know Nancy, but she's not my girlfriend or anything–"

"Although she should be."

"So, it was just a little weird, sleeping with her." He chose to ignore his brother's comment for the moment. Professional. He was back to being a complete professional. And not picturing Nancy naked in the shower. No…he was definitely not doing that. He looked at Joe. "And I do mean sleeping."

"Well, I don't know which is worse," Joe said. "Sleeping with someone you don't know very well, or sleeping with your girlfriend, but not really sleeping with her."

Frank chuckled. "Sounds like an exercise in frustration."

"You can say that again," Joe agreed. "Although it's purely my fault. I wanted her along on this case."

"Ready to go," Emily announced, as she walked out of the bathroom clad in a short, white tennis skirt and matching t-shirt.

"You look terrific," Joe said with a broad smile as he opened his arms and she stepped into them for a hug.

"Frank, are you and Nancy going to have breakfast with us?" Emily asked over Joe's shoulder.

"Sure," he responded with a smile. "Let me give her a call." He picked up the phone and dialed. After a short conversation with Nancy, he turned back to Joe and Emily. "She said she'd love to..." His voice trailed off as he saw his brother and Emily engaged in a passionate kiss. "You've got a long week ahead of you, Joe," he mumbled.

OOOoooOOO

Frank shook his head in disbelief as Joe leaned back and pushed away his empty plate. Just twenty minutes before, it had been filled with a hearty breakfast of fresh tropical fruit, pancakes, eggs and bacon.

"Man, I'm stuffed," Joe said with a groan.

Emily laughed as she looked at his clean platter. "You should be."

"He'll be hungry again in an hour," Frank teased. "He has a hollow leg."

"Well, there are at least four hours until lunch," Emily said. "So we'll just have to find something to keep you busy until then."

"I can think of something." Joe looked at Emily with a glint in his eye.

Frank chuckled inwardly. Subtlety had never been Joe's strong point.

"I was thinking of the tennis game you promised me." She gave him a little jab in his full stomach.

"Oof," he grunted. "I'm not sure I'm up to running around on a tennis court just yet, baby." He patted his stomach. "Too many pancakes."

"Well, that's okay," Nancy interrupted. "I thought maybe Emily and I could spend a little more time shopping this morning. If that's all right with you?" she asked Emily.

"I'm always up for shopping," she said with a smile. "Joe?"

"Sure, honey. Our 'friends' aren't scheduled to arrive until around four o'clock, so how about if you go shopping, then I'll meet you on the tennis court at eleven-thirty?" Joe looked up. "Okay with you, Frank?"

"Fine." Frank leaned back and studied Nancy, wondering why on earth she wanted to go shopping again. She seemed a little nervous. His brow furrowed. Something was definitely up.

Emily leaned over and kissed Joe. "I'll miss you," she whispered.

Frank smiled at them, then his eyes grew wide as Nancy slid her hand up over his shoulder and pulled him close to her, kissing him softly on the lips.

"Bye, honey," she intoned in a sweet voice.

"Um, bye," he replied, feeling slightly startled by the unexpected show of affection. Who was this woman and what had she done with Nancy?

As the girls walked off together, Frank noticed Joe staring at him with a smug expression on his face. "You handled that well, Mr. 'Deer Caught in the Headlights.'"

"She just surprised me, that's all," Frank said, his mouth still tingling from the light pressure of Nancy's lips against his own.

OOOoooOOO

"Thanks for agreeing to go shopping with me," Nancy said, as she and Emily strolled along the hotel corridor.

"Sure," Emily replied. "What are we looking for this time?"

"A nightgown, pajamas, I don't know, something I can sleep in." Nancy turned to Emily. "Do you know what I brought with me?"

She shook her head.

"A short, silky nightie." Nancy blushed anew, remembering her embarrassment from the night before.

Emily burst out laughing. "Oh, I would have paid good money to see the look on Frank's face."

"Yeah, well, it was somewhere between 'shock' and 'horror,'" Nancy recounted. She thought he'd tried to hide it well, but she'd definitely caught him off guard with the nightie. She cringed inwardly. "I just hope he didn't think I was trying to make a play for him."

"Oh, I'm sure he didn't suspect any ulterior motives."

Pointing to one of the shops on the promenade, Nancy said, "Let's try in here."

They entered the stylish boutique and walked to the rear of the shop where the nightwear section was located.

As they browsed through the racks, Emily said, "Nancy, I don't get it. You and Frank obviously have feelings for each other. Why aren't you two together?"

Nancy shrugged as she surveyed a filmy white nightgown. "I don't know. I like Frank, but there always seems to be this wall between us. And neither one of us can seem to get past it."

Emily gave her a teasing smile. "I guarantee you'll get past it if you wear this tonight." She held up a black bustier with a garter belt.

Nancy burst out laughing. "That would absolutely terrify Frank. He'd probably jump out the window."

Emily giggled. "You might be right. You don't want to come on toostrong."

"Why don't you get it?" Nancy baited her. "I'm sure Joe would appreciate it."

"Oh, no," Emily replied. "What I need to sleep in is a pair of snow pants, a parka, gloves and a hat. And even then, I'm not sure it would dampen the ardor of Joe Hardy."

Nancy laughed, then turned to Emily with a sigh. "There is nothing in this store that is even remotely modest."

"No, I guess not," Emily agreed. "We are at a honeymoon resort, after all. I guess you're stuck in the short, silky nightie."

"Ugh. The next time I travel for a case, I will definitely pay more attention to what I'm packing." Nancy hung the teddy back on the rack. "We can go now. Unless you want to get that bustier?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly at Emily.

"No," Emily said firmly. "Let's just say my relationship with Joe hasn't reached the 'bustier' stage yet."

The girls laughed and chatted together as they walked along the promenade to the main lobby of the hotel. There they were detoured by some barricades set up for what appeared to be a film crew.

"Wonder what this is all about?" Nancy said as she surveyed the room.

"I have no idea." Emily grabbed Nancy's arm. "Oh look, isn't that the cute actor in that television show? What's it called..._The Resort_?"

Nancy's eyes widened. "Yes, it is. I didn't know they filmed here."

The girls watched as the leading man and another actress rehearsed a scene.

"Wow, he really is cute," Nancy said admiringly.

Emily giggled. "Don't let your husband hear you say that."

"Yeah," Nancy said. "Right."

Emily glanced down at her watch. "I'd better get over to the tennis court for my date with Joe. Do you want to come?"

Nancy shook her head. "No, I think I'll hang out here for awhile. I want to get more of a feel for this place. See if I can pick up a clue or two about what might be going on."

"Okay, well, thanks for the fun shopping trip," Emily said, then gave Nancy a sly smile. "I'll let your husband know where you are. I'm sure he must be missing you by now."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Undoubtedly."

Emily waved as she dashed off toward the tennis courts and Nancy turned her attention back to the lead actor. She thought he was even cuter in person than he was in those fan magazines Bess was always reading.

OOOoooOOO

Frank was leaning against the chain link fence surrounding one of the hotel tennis courts with Joe, watching a game being played, when Emily strolled over to them.

"Hey there, good lookin'," she said, swatting Joe lightly on the bottom with her racket. "Wanna play with me?"

"Now that's a loaded question," Frank said with a chuckle.

Joe turned and broke into a big smile. "I'll play with you anytime." He took her into his arms for a quick kiss. "How was shopping?"

"Mmmm, fine. We didn't find what we were looking for though." She touched her finger to the tip of Joe's nose. "You need some zinc oxide if you're going to be out in the sun."

"And what was it you were looking for?" Frank wanted to know.

"Oh, um, just some nightgowns and stuff," she responded absently, digging the tube of zinc oxide out of her tote bag and applying the cream to Joe's face.

"Nightgowns?" Frank asked. He wondered why on earth Nancy wanted to buy nightgowns. Should he be reading something into that?

"Mmm-hmm." Emily giggled as Joe wrinkled up his nose in protest over the sunscreen. "I guess Nancy wasn't happy with the sleepwear she brought with her."

"I thought she looked terrific," Frank said. Incredibly sexy, in fact. So sexy that he had to keep the water temperature in his shower that morning at thirty degrees.

"Well, she wanted something a little less revealing," Emily explained, putting the cap back on the tube of zinc oxide and returning it to her bag.

Boom…and there went the Nancy fantasy. Frank sighed. She didn't want to look sexy for him. She wanted an Aunt Gertrude nightgown. Sex repellent.

"No," Joe disagreed. "Revealing is good."

"What I don't understand, Frank Hardy, is why you just don't ask her out," Emily said. "I mean, clearly there is something going on between you two."

"Something going on?" Frank raised his eyebrows. She just said she wanted to buy something less revealing. Keep up, Emily.

"Did you buy something revealing?" Joe asked Emily, a hopeful note in his voice.

"Frank, I'm telling you, there are major sparks flying every time you two are in the same room," she continued, looking pointedly at him.

Frank sighed. "I think she'd turn me down, Em." More like, he knew she would.

"Are you kidding me?" Emily seemed incredulous.

"Maybe something lacy?" Joe suggested.

"I don't know," Frank said.

"Oh, Frank, please promise me you'll say something to her," Emily said. "I know she likes you."

"What makes you say that?" Did she actually tell Emily she was interested in him? Was he missing some cues here?

"Lacy and short," Joe continued.

"The way she looks whenever I mention your name," Emily explained. "Sort of wistful, like she wants you, but she's afraid."

Frank snorted. "Nancy Drew is not afraid of anything."

"Lacy, black and short," Joe added.

Emily raised an eyebrow. "She's afraid of_ you_, Frank. And don't tell me I'm wrong. I'm a girl, and I can tell how she feels. She wants you. So you need to be the brave one and ask her out. Because if you don't, I'm afraid it won't ever happen."

"I'll think about it," Frank said. But, if truth be told…he was a little afraid himself.

"Promise me," Emily insisted.

"Okay," Frank agreed. "We'll see how things go today." Of course, there was that kiss at breakfast.

"Things would be terrific if you two would just stop playing these silly games and admit you like each other," Emily told him in a firm tone.

"You don't mince words, do you?" Frank looked over at Joe. "You've got your hands full with this one."

"Hmmm?" Joe asked.

"Earth to Joe." Emily waved her hand in front of his face.

"Oh, sorry, I was just imagining you in something revealing." He gave her a wicked grin.

Frank looked from his brother to Emily. "And that's my cue to leave."

"Ah, he _can_ take a hint," Joe responded, sweeping Emily into his arms for a lingering kiss.

"You two have fun playing tennis," Frank called out, as he began to walk away. "If you can keep your hands off each other long enough to make it onto the court," he mumbled.

OOOoooOOO

Frank inserted the key in his hotel room door and turned the knob. He found Nancy sitting on the edge of the bed, chatting on the phone.

"Yeah, okay, I gotta go, Bess." Nancy nodded. "Yep, nothing's changed. I'll let you know. Frank just walked in. Mmm-hmm. Okay, thanks. Bye."

She hung up the phone as Frank tossed his keys onto the dresser.

"How's Bess?" he asked.

"Other than being sick about Joe and Emily? Fine."

Frank chuckled. "I expect a quick recovery on her part."

"Probably," Nancy agreed as she stood and walked over to her carry-on bag on the dresser. "Hey, listen Frank. With the Brookfields arriving in a few hours, shouldn't we go over the fine points of this case again?"

"I suppose," Frank agreed. "Then we need to destroy these dossiers."

Nancy nodded, as she removed a file then sat down on the edge of the bed and opened it. "Okay, apparently Interpol has arranged for our room to be directly across the courtyard from the Brookfields' room so we can use the binoculars on them."

"Yeah, and Joe and Emily are right next door to them," Frank added. "Hopefully, the listening device they have will work."

"Hopefully, Joe and Emily can stop paying attention to each other long enough to actually use the listening device," Nancy countered.

Frank laughed. "I think Joe is enough of a professional not to get too distracted."

"Well, it's nice that_ we_ don't have to be worried about anything like that," Nancy said, shuffling through her papers.

"Yeah," Frank agreed as he sat next to her on the bed. He thought her hair actually looked like it had strands of gold running through it. He'd never noticed that before. He leaned in to take one of the papers from the pile on Nancy's lap. She smelled amazing…sort of fruity and sweet and tropical. He wondered if it was her shampoo…or just her?

"I mean, I'm happy that we can handle this…um…awkward situation of having to pretend to be married in such a professional manner."

Frank grinned. "Yeah, that was a very professional kiss you gave me at breakfast."

Nancy's eyes opened wide and her cheeks turned pink. Frank thought she looked adorable.

"I-I'm really sorry about that," she stammered. "I saw Emily kiss Joe and I thought it would look weird if I just walked away from you. I didn't mean anything by it…I hope it didn't make you uncomfortable."

Frank chuckled inwardly. Well, yes it did, but not in the way she was thinking. "No, it was fine. You were right. No newlyweds would have walked away from each other without a goodbye kiss. And it was a very nice kiss. Thank you."

He didn't think it was possible, but Nancy's blush deepened. She actually seemed flustered. Maybe Emily wasn't as far off base as he'd thought. He felt a new sense of power rise within him. "I hope it won't upset you if I find myself in the position of having to kiss _you_ in public." Frank let his gaze run slowly up and down her body. "Or touch you."

The papers Nancy had been holding suddenly slid off her lap and fluttered to the floor. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I should have spread these out on the table." She quickly jumped off the bed and scrambled to pick them up.

Frank allowed a satisfied smile to escape his lips as he bent down to help her retrieve them. He reached for a file folder a second after she did and his hand closed over hers. She was trembling. Frank gave her hand a squeeze. "I've got it."

Nancy seemed confused as she stared up at him. Her eyes were now a deep sapphire color. He watched as her gaze dropped to his mouth and she dampened her lips with her tongue. Frank hoped it was an unconscious gesture that meant she was thinking of kissing him, because he was definitely thinking of kissing her.

He held her hand firmly and pulled her in, while he lowered his head slightly, his jaw brushing lightly over her hair. He watched her pupils dilate as she looked up at him, and then Frank saw it. Fear. Nancy was afraid. Of him. He paused and pulled back slightly. Not like this. It couldn't happen like this. He squeezed her hand and smiled. "Should we put these papers on the table?"

"Wh-what?" Nancy asked.

Frank dropped her hand. "The papers. We can spread them out and go over them more quickly that way."

Nancy seemed to snap out of her flustered state and the professional mask came down over her features again. "Of course." She gathered the remaining files and stood up quickly. "I think if we split up, we can watch the Brookfields more closely. I can take the lobby. I have a great disguise that will make me unrecognizable."

"Sounds good," Frank said as he approached the table with the remaining papers.

Nancy paused and smiled at him. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Thank you, Frank."

He looked at her warmly. "You're welcome, Drew." _But now that I know Emily is right, I'm not letting this go forever._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thank you so much to those who took time to review! Killian, Leya, Jackie and Virtute...I appreciate everything you had to say! Now...onto the mystery. Oh, and since this is based on the 70s show, I decided to mentally cast it with 70s actors. So this "episode's" guest star, playing "Dirk Benson"...is Dirk Benedict of the old "Battlestar Galactica" fame. If you're too young to know who that is...please don't tell me. LOL Thank you to everyone reading!

Chapter 7

Later that afternoon, Nancy was standing in the lobby, wearing a sundress, sunglasses, and a floppy hat with her hair pulled up underneath it. She stopped casually near the reservations desk to confirm her suspicions that the couple now checking in was Paul and Gina Brookfield, the suspects Interpol wanted them to observe. She noted that they appeared to be in their early thirties, that he had dark hair and glasses, and that she was a redhead.

She crossed the lobby to the house phones and dialed her own room.

"Frank, they're here. Yes, checking in with four bags. The bellhop is taking them upstairs now. I'm on my way."

OOO

Frank was poised behind the curtain of the French doors in his room, with the high-powered binoculars up to his eyes. He waited while the Brookfields entered their room with the bellhop, and quietly observed them while he brought in the luggage. He leaned over slightly to pick up the phone on the desk and dial his brother's room. Time to get this show on the road.

OOO

Two hours later, Nancy, Frank and Emily were all seated in the hotel restaurant within view of the Brookfields. The atmosphere was breezy and tropical and the music from a steel-drum band on the patio made it impossible to overhear conversations between tables.

Nancy watched as Emily nervously picked at her salad.

"I hope Joe's okay," she said in a low voice.

"He'll be fine, Em. Don't worry." Frank smiled at her. "He's searched hundreds of rooms before. He knows what he's doing."

"And besides," Nancy offered. "Our quarry is within sight."

"Yeah," she said with a smile. "I guess I'm not quite used to this lifestyle yet. It's kind of hard not to worry."

At that moment, Joe strolled into the restaurant and slipped into the chair next to Emily.

"Hi, baby." He kissed her cheek. "Sorry I'm late."

Emily smiled, relief written all over her face, and Nancy noticed Joe took her hand under the table. They didn't have to do any acting at all on this case, she thought. They already looked like honeymooners.

Nancy gave Joe a questioning look and saw Frank was doing the same.

"Nothing," Joe said quietly, then aloud, "Wow, everything on the menu looks fabulous."

"Nothing?" Frank asked.

Joe shook his head. "Normal everyday stuff, and I checked thoroughly. Two suitcases, containing only clothes and toiletries. I looked over all the furniture, under the beds, the closets, you name it. Nothing."

Nancy paused for a moment, thoughtful. "Two suitcases?"

Joe nodded, "Yeah."

"They checked in with four," she remembered. "I saw the bellhop load them on the luggage cart and take them upstairs."

"There were only two in the room," Joe said with assurance.

"So, where are the other two?" Frank mused.

"That's what I'm going to find out." Nancy started to discard the napkin from her lap and began to rise from her chair when Frank stopped her.

"Not now you're not," he hissed, grabbing her arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" Nancy asked through gritted teeth. Besides being his usual pig-headed self.

"You will blow our cover if you take off in the middle of a romantic dinner," Frank explained. "Happily married newlyweds don't do that."

"Frank's right," Joe chimed in. "You're going to look like you're having a fight."

"Well, maybe we are," she replied. _No, let's change that. We definitely are. _

"Oh no, we're not." Frank slipped his arm around Nancy's shoulders, drew her to him, and kissed her intently. He broke away from her and stared deeply in her eyes, then whispered, "We're madly in love."

Nancy started to pull away, but Frank held her tightly, bringing his lips over hers for another long kiss. He then brushed his lips over her cheek and next to her ear, murmuring through gritted teeth, "Don't you dare go anywhere."

Nancy pulled away shakily and picked up her menu, trying to appear unaffected by Frank's kiss. _How dare he?_ she fumed. How dare he kiss her like that. And how dare it make her all shivery inside. She silently cursed her body for continuing to betray her where Frank was concerned. First that little episode in the hotel room and now this. Stupid biology. She looked up to see Joe and Emily staring at her, slightly open-mouthed.

"Um, honey, what do think about the lobster?" Emily asked, seeming to recover first.

"Yeah sure, that sounds great," Joe responded, as Nancy, her hands visibly trembling, picked up her water glass and took a small sip.

Frank's arm and shoulder brushed against hers as he reached for the water carafe to refill his own goblet. His rock hard, leanly muscled arm and shoulder. Nancy shivered.

"You cold?" Frank asked.

She shook her head and he smiled at her. That stupid sexy smile that turned her insides to mush. She shivered again. Damn it, he really needed to stop doing that.

The waiter approached the table with his pen poised. "Have you all decided?"

A burst of inspiration hit Nancy and she smiled weakly, "You know, I am so sorry, but I have a splitting headache. I think I'm going to have to excuse myself and lie down for a while." She'd bet anything Frank thought he'd won that round. But it wasn't going to happen. Not that way. Just because her body seemed to turn into a teenager on hormone overdrive when she was around him didn't mean her brain did the same.

Frank's eyes widened and he reached for her arm.

Nancy pulled away, saying sweetly, "Oh honey, I know you're worried, but really, I'll be fine. I just need to rest for awhile." She looked at Emily and Joe. "Please stay and enjoy your dinner."

Nancy got up hurriedly and left the table, walking briskly to the exit. _There, take that, Hardy. _She smiled victoriously. And she was actually walking. Her legs hadn't really turned to Jello. She paused at the entrance of the restaurant. _Wow, that's pathetic._

Time to focus on the investigation. She was a professional. She needed to remember that. Nancy turned toward the bank of elevators and caught a flash of a blue suit coat headed her way at full speed. _Oh no, he was not!_

Frank was moving in her direction, a determined look she knew meant business, in his narrowed eyes. Suddenly she felt like a school girl being hauled in front of the principal. A flash of anger welled up inside her. He was not going to do this to her. She was his equal in this case. How dare he have that "don't mess with me" look on his face. And how dare that make him look twice as sexy as he normally did. And my gosh, what in the world was wrong with her that she couldn't go more than ten minutes without thinking how sexy Frank Hardy was?

OOO

Frank rushed up to Nancy in the lobby as she pushed the button for the elevator. He grabbed onto her elbow, a smile plastered to his face.

"Honey, wait for me," Frank insisted, hoping that his tone of voice hadn't betrayed the anger coursing through him. Who did she think she was? Had President Carter appointed her FBI chief when he wasn't looking?

"Not now." She pressed the button again. "I have work to do."

"Nancy, you seem to forget that we're supposed to be working together," he murmured. Why was she always so damned unreasonable? Did she stay up at nights practicing?

He pulled her around the corner into an isolated alcove. The resort was full of private little nooks and crannies where honeymooners could sneak a kiss or two, but that was the farthest thing from Frank's mind at the moment. Well, until he realized how close they were standing. And how good she smelled. And how soft her skin was. He dropped her arm.

"Well, sorry, but you aren't following up on an obvious lead, and I'm not going to let it get by me," Nancy said, in a tone that Frank could tell meant she was beyond irritated with him.

"It wasn't the right time to follow up on the lead," he countered. "Besides, we had the suspects right under our noses."

"All the more reason to investigate now," Nancy insisted. "Look, Joe and Emily are still there. They'll keep them under surveillance."

"Nancy," he protested, "I can't have you taking off whenever you feel like you want to follow a lead." Something could happen to her and he'd never forgive himself. Frank paused. Well, that was if he cared.

"_You _can't have me taking off?" Her eyes flashed with anger. "Just who died and put you in charge of this entire investigation, Frank Hardy?"

He sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere this way. Time to try another tactic. "Look, I'm sorry. You're right." He put his arm over her shoulder. "Let's just try to work together. We've done it before. Very well, I might add. Hollywood, Transylvania…remember those cases?" He smiled at her. Her eyes really were a gorgeous shade of blue. "Please, Mrs. Hardy?"

A tiny smile turned up the corners of her mouth. "Okay, fine. Let's go."

OOOoooOOO

Emily and Joe were finishing the dessert they were sharing when the Brookfields stood up to leave.

"Honey," Joe whispered, "would you mind signing for dinner while I follow them? If you don't see me in the lobby when you come out, just head up to our room and stay there until I get back."

Emily looked at him nervously. "Okay."

"It'll be all right," he assured her, patting her arm.

She watched him walk to the door of the restaurant, then look back and wink at her. She couldn't help smiling, but it didn't really do much to calm her nerves while she waited for the waiter to show up with the check.

He finally approached her table. "Your husband left?"

Emily quickly signed for the meal. "Yes, he said he had a surprise for me in our room that he wanted to get ready."

The waiter smiled. "It's obvious that he loves you very much. Congratulations on your marriage."

"Thank you."

Emily took a deep breath and rose from her chair after the waiter nodded his thanks and left. She forced herself to walk leisurely into the main part of the lobby, hoping the look on her face wasn't an anxious one. She paused near the reservation desk and spotted Joe headed off down a corridor. Sighing with relief, she hurried to catch up with him. She knew he'd heard her when he glanced over his shoulder and smiled. She moved up next to him and he interlaced his fingers with hers, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Isn't it a gorgeous night?" he asked softly.

She looked at him puzzled.

He leaned into her. "Talk to me, baby. Like we're any other couple just out for a stroll."

She nodded. "It's beautiful."

The Brookfields glanced backwards before turning the corner into an outdoor area of the hotel, and Joe immediately slipped his arms around Emily's waist, pulled her into him, and kissed her passionately.

As the suspects continued to walk along the garden path, he ended the kiss and smiled at her. "I can't use that type of cover when I'm investigating with Frank."

She giggled as Joe took her hand again. "Oh, and hold that thought," he whispered in her ear. "We'll pick up where we left off later tonight."

The two stepped into the outdoor courtyard area of the lobby, filled with tropical flowers and lush greenery, and continued down the path. Joe glanced around. "Do you know where the Brookfields went?"

Emily shook her head.

They continued walking forward until they came to a roped-off area.

"What on earth?" Joe questioned.

"Oh, it's the set for that TV show, _The Resort_," Emily explained. "Nancy and I saw them filming earlier today in the lobby."

He nodded, still looking around. "Listen honey, you stay right here and watch the filming for awhile, okay? Keep an eye out for our suspects." He kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be right back."

"Be careful," she pleaded.

He smiled and slipped into the crowd gathered around to watch as the scene began.

OOOoooOOO

Nancy kept one eye on the reservation desk and the other on Frank while he continuously scanned the lobby.

"They're definitely not the same employees who were there when the Brookfields checked in," she told him in a low voice. "So I think this will work."

He nodded. "Okay. Are you sure you don't want me to do it?"

She gave him a look. _Give your male superiority complex a rest once in awhile, okay?_

Frank held his hands up in front of him. "Okay, okay. Just thought I'd ask."

Nancy proceeded to the reservation desk and approached the clerk. "Excuse me?"

The girl behind the counter came over with a smile. "May I help you?"

"Yes. I think the bellhop had some suitcases picked up from my room this afternoon? Room four-fifty-two?"

"Let me check." The girl glanced through a book on her desk. "Um, yes, Mrs. Brookfield. Two suitcases were brought back down. Apparently he left them in your room by mistake."

"Well, yes," Nancy agreed. "However, when he came back to get the bags, he accidentally took one that really did belong to us."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry."

"Nothing to worry about," Nancy assured her. "If you could just tell me where the other bags were delivered, I'm sure I can stop by and pick mine up."

"Um, sure." The clerk looked through the book again. "Oh. They were delivered to the set of the TV show filming here. You know, _The Resort_."

"Really?" Nancy was surprised. "Thank you." The TV show? Why in the world would they have been delivered there? She supposed it could have been a mistake, but… She went to leave then turned back. "Does _The Resort _film here often?"

"Oh, yes," the girl replied excitedly. "This is their permanent home." She sighed. "We get to see Dirk Benson almost every day. He's so handsome."

"Yes, he is," Nancy agreed. "Thank you again." It was definitely _not _a mistake. This TV show was somehow tangled up in the art thefts. She walked away from the desk and around the corner to Frank.

"What did you find out?"

Nancy grabbed his arm excitedly. "The TV show. They delivered the suitcases to the TV show."

"What TV show?"

"Come on," she said impatiently tugging at him. "Let's go."

OOOoooOOO

Emily glanced around the area of the hotel that had been turned into a television studio. It was designed to look like a living room area leading outdoors to a patio. She slipped through the crowd to get a closer look at the actors, and found herself near the living room portion of the set when something caught her eye. She gave an involuntary gasp and attempted to step closer, but was stopped by a security guard.

"I'm sorry, Miss. All guests need to stand behind the barricades."

She stepped back and saw Frank and Nancy approaching. Frank gestured to her and she followed him to a secluded garden area off the set.

"Where's Joe?" he asked.

"He went to try and follow the Brookfields," Emily said in a low voice. "We lost them."

"Well, we found out that those missing suitcases from their room were delivered here, to the set," Nancy told her in a hushed tone.

"Really?" Emily asked. "That's weird, because I just saw something that might be suspicious."

"What?" Nancy wanted to know.

Emily pointed toward the set. "Do you see that painting hanging on the wall in the living room?"

They both nodded.

"Well, it's a Gauguin. _Vase de Fleurs Lilas_, it's called. I would assume a copy, but..." Emily hesitated.

"What?" Nancy demanded.

"The original of that painting was stolen," she explained. "We learned about it in class this semester."

"You don't think…?" Frank began.

"I don't know," Emily said sincerely. "I'm not an art appraiser by any means." She paused. "Of course, if we could get a closer look at it, the information could be sent to someone who is."

"What kind of information would we need to have for an appraisal?" Nancy asked.

"Well, the dimensions of the painting, a photograph of the front and back, a close-up of any signatures and dates, that sort of thing."

"Hmm, not something you can do with a cursory glance," Frank noted.

Emily shook her head.

"We have to get on that set," Nancy said determinedly.

"Good luck," Frank remarked, as he surveyed the actors and crew members bustling about.

"Not now." Nancy turned to look at the set. "After they're done filming for the night."

"Nancy, I can't let you do that," Frank started to protest.

Nancy turned on him, "Again with the 'let', Frank? You're not going to _'let'_ me?"

"Arguing again?" Joe piped in, as he stepped up to the three of them. "Or should I say, still?" He grinned at Frank and Nancy and kissed Emily on the cheek.

"Never mind," Frank said to him. He turned to Emily. "Could you tell if it might be the original just by looking at the painting closely?"

She shook her head. "The only thing I could tell you by doing that is if it's an obvious fake. Like, if it were a poster or something."

"Well, maybe that should be our first step," Nancy said. "See if Emily can get close enough to check it out, and then if it looks like it might be real, sneak back later and get all the other info we'd need to have it authenticated."

Emily was worried. "How on earth can I get a close look at it? I'm not a detective."

Nancy tilted her head and peered onto the set. "No, but you're gorgeous, and he's a man with a staggering reputation as a womanizer," she said, pointing to lead actor Dirk Benson.

"What?" Emily exclaimed. There was no way Nancy was asking her to hit on him. She wouldn't do it. She couldn't do it.

"Wait a minute..." Joe protested.

"Wait nothing." Nancy took Emily by the arm and walked her closer to the set. "Stand here. When he notices you, flirt with him. Then, when he comes over to you, ask him for an autograph or something. You can do that."

"Are you joking?" Emily stared at her. Maybe she was just insane.

"No, I'm not," she replied. "Look we need to know about that painting, and no one else here can tell a Gauguin from a Dr. Seuss. Don't worry, you can do this." Nancy gave her a little push forward. "I have my friend Bess do this sort of thing all the time. And if she can do it, you can do it."

Joe walked up to Nancy. "I don't like this."

"Joe, she's fine. It's just some harmless flirting, and it'll get us the information we need."

"I don't want her flirting with anybody," he insisted.

Nancy turned around. "Frank?"

Frank stepped up to his brother. "Let's just see if it works."

Joe crossed his arms in front of him and stood by with an irritated expression on his face. "I still don't think this is necessary."

The scene from _The Resort _was coming to a close. The actors turned away from the action, and as Nancy predicted, Dirk Benson spied Emily near the edge of the crowd and flashed a movie star smile her way. She giggled and gave him a little wave. Dirk sidled up to her in a New York minute and struck up a conversation.

"Well, hello there."

"Hi," Emily replied softly, dropping her head down.

"Come here often?"

Emily turned away from Dirk in what she hoped was a coy manner and spotted Joe out of the corner of her eye. She faintly heard him mutter the words, "what an ass" as he glared at Dirk. His arms were crossed in front of him and the expression on his face was one of total disgust. She really hoped he would keep his temper in check and not charge the set.

Turning back to Dirk, Emily batted her eyelashes as she smiled. "Um, I just started working here at the hotel last week, and since I love your show so much, I thought I'd come see a scene being filmed."

"It is a great show, isn't it?" He leaned into her. "You are clearly a woman of discriminating taste."

She cringed inwardly as she heard Joe voice's in the background. "Is he kidding?"

Emily giggled. "I've never been on a real TV set before. It's just so cool."

"Yeah, well we only have the best here." Dirk slid the barricade to one side. "Would you like a tour?"

"Wow, really?" she asked wide-eyed.

Dirk gave her another dazzling flash of capped teeth. "You betcha, sweetheart. My you are a pretty little thing, aren't you?" He slid his arm around her waist. "Maybe when we're done on the set, I could show you my dressing room."

In her peripheral vision, Emily saw Joe lunge forward past the barricade, only to be stopped in his tracks by Frank and Nancy's outstretched arms.

Emily deftly stepped away from Dirk's attempt at an embrace. "Oh, it's amazing how real this looks." She walked over to the painting. "Everything here is so beautiful."

"Yes, it is."

She could feel Dirk leering at her as she examined the painting. Pervert. She turned after a moment. "Well, Mr. Benson..."

"Dirk, please," he responded stepping closer to her.

"Of course. Dirk." Emily started to walk away. "I'm really sorry, but my shift is starting and I have to run. My boss will kill me if I'm even one second late." She stepped through the barricade. "Thanks for the tour."

"But, we haven't even started yet," he protested.

"Bye," she waved, and ducking behind some other gawkers, made her way back to Nancy, Frank and Joe.

"That was great!" Nancy congratulated her as she approached.

"Ugh," Emily responded. "I feel like I need a shower. What a lech."

Frank laughed. "He is a mover, isn't he?"

"He's an ass," Joe repeated, hugging Emily to him.

"So?" Nancy asked. "The painting?"

"It's a definite possibility," she replied. "It's not a poster or a print. Of course, without a chance to study it, I can't really say."

"Then I'm coming back tonight," Nancy said firmly.

"We're coming back," Frank replied, just as firmly.

She smiled at him. "Okay, Frank. We're coming back."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Wow, thanks for the reviews, Leya, TXMedic, Jackie, Kenna and Virtute! I loved reading them! More investigating in this chapter...plus Nancy and Frank have a breakthrough. LOL I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to all who are taking time to read!

Chapter 6

Shortly after midnight, Nancy and Frank returned to the area where _The Resort _was being filmed. Nancy looked around at the darkened set that had been the living room only four hours before.

"Frank, where is everything?" she whispered, seeing only the structure of the set, and nothing more.

"I don't know. It looks like it's all been taken apart."

"Can I help you folks?" A security guard with a flashlight approached them.

"Oh, we were just curious about the TV show that was filming here," Nancy said offhandedly. She linked her arm through Frank's, trying to look more like the honeymooning couple they were pretending to be. _Wow, he has amazing biceps._

"Well, the set is closed, Miss," the guard replied. "They'll be filming again in the morning."

"Um, do you know what they do with all the props they use here?" Frank asked. "I mean…this area looked totally different not too long ago."

"The prop master takes care of that," the guard replied. "He puts all the stuff in storage so nothing happens to any of it."

"Wow, do they keep it all here at the hotel?" Frank questioned.

"Yeah, they've got some rooms they only use for the show." The guard gestured down the hall. "They rent a mess of space from us. Guess these Hollywood bigwigs can afford it."

"I guess," Nancy said. "Well, thanks for your help. Goodnight."

She steered Frank away and they walked down the hall. After a few steps, Nancy realized she was caressing his arm. Nice. Now she was fondling his muscles. His rock hard muscles. She needed to say something quickly before he noticed.

"How on earth are we going to figure out which room that painting is in?" she asked, as they crossed into the lobby.

"Break into every one?" he suggested with a smile.

She thought he'd suspected her of bicep fondling_. _If only his muscles weren't so tempting. A fleeting image of him in the bath towel crossed her mind before she turned her head in embarrassment. As she looked into the lobby, something caught her eye. She pulled Frank back slightly and tugged on his arm. "Look."

The Brookfields were standing at the registration desk.

"What are they doing?" he asked.

"I think they're checking out."

"But why?"

They watched for another moment, as the Brookfields indeed checked out of the hotel, and got into an airport shuttle.

"Quick, let's go search their room," Nancy said.

"You think there might be a clue in there that Joe missed?"

"I don't know." Nancy pushed the button on the elevator. "I just think we should check it out."

OOO

They exited the elevator and proceeded to the Brookfields' room. Frank quickly picked the lock and flipped on the light switch, and he and Nancy began to search. After about fifteen minutes, Frank pulled out a file that had been taped to the bottom of the box spring.

"Found something, Nan."

As she approached him, they heard someone attempting to open the door. He quickly turned off the light, grabbed Nancy's hand, and led her to the connecting door between the Brookfields' room and Joe and Emily's. He opened the door on the Brookfields' side, and quickly popped the lock to shove Nancy through the door on Joe and Emily's side. He closed and locked it just as the Brookfields' main door opened.

"That was close," she whispered, clinging to Frank.

"I'll say."

Frank looked around Joe and Emily's darkened room, and saw the two of them sleeping in bed. As the moonlight shone through the French doors, he observed that Joe and Emily were completely entwined, their legs and arms wrapped around each other, the covers haphazardly pulled over them.

Nancy cleared her throat. "Wow, it certainly looks like they're taking this role playing stuff seriously."

"Um, yeah," Frank mumbled. More seriously than he'd thought.

Joe began to stir and raised himself to a sitting position. Frank closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. He really hoped Joe had something on.

Joe rubbed his eyes and jumped as he spotted two figures in the room. Instinctively, he leaned over to protect Emily. "Who's there?" he called out menacingly.

"Relax," Frank spoke up. "It's only me and Nancy."

Joe turned on the bedside lamp and for the first time, Frank noticed Emily's bare arms. He _really _hoped she was dressed.

"Frank, what the hell are you doing in here?" Joe demanded, throwing back the sheets.

Frank cringed, and braced himself to turn Nancy around, when he noticed his brother's sweat pants.

"Saving our hides," Nancy said. "The Brookfields checked out, and we went inside their room to search it again. Of course someone starting coming through the door, so we broke in here."

Nancy and Frank exchanged glances.

"I'm going in the hall to see who comes out of that room," Frank said, as he handed her the file.

Nancy nodded, and went over to the bed where a bewildered Emily was now sitting up as well.

Joe rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm still not sure what's going on."

Nancy sat down on the edge of the bed to explain, while Frank exited the main door of Joe and Emily's room. He moved quietly, pausing to listen briefly at the Brookfields' door. He heard a noise coming from within, so he quickly positioned himself around the corner. Within three minutes, the Brookfields' door opened, and a man stormed out.

"The bellhop," Frank whispered. He waited until the man entered the stairwell at the opposite end of the hall then rushed back into Joe and Emily's room.

Nancy jumped up from the edge of the bed when she saw him. "Well?"

"It's the bellhop," Frank told her. "He was obviously in there looking for the file." He saw it lying on the bed unopened. "What's in it, anyway?"

"I haven't looked through it yet," Nancy admitted. "I was telling them what happened." She leafed through the papers. "It has something to do with art." She handed the file to Emily. "Do you know what it means?"

Frank watched as Emily took the folder and examined its contents. He noticed she was dressed in Joe's t-shirt and boxer shorts. Her hair was loose and tousled and she still seemed sleepy. He smiled slightly. He didn't think she even had a clue how sexy she looked.

Frank's gaze wandered to Nancy, and he imagined for a moment how it would be to have her in bed next to him dressed the same way as Emily, and how it would feel to have Nancy's legs draped over him and her arms wrapped around him as they slept. A lot better than it did right now, with each of them clinging to the outside edge of their respective sides of the bed, he'd bet. He smiled again. Nancy would look amazing in one of his t-shirts. Emily's voice startled him out of his reverie.

"This is provenance."

"What does that mean exactly?" Nancy asked.

"I'm not sure," she responded, sorting through the documents. "This group of papers here..." She paused and her eyes widened.

"What is it, honey?" Joe asked, concerned.

"These are for a Van Gogh," she said softly, reading over the pages.

"What's so unusual about that?" Nancy asked, curiously.

"Well, this particular Van Gogh has been missing since World War II," Emily replied.

"Are the documents real?" Frank asked.

"I think some of them are." Emily handed him an old newspaper article, containing a photo of a Van Gogh still life.

"Yeah, that is an old newspaper," he said.

"Do you think they have this painting somewhere?" Joe questioned.

"If they do, it will be a huge find," Emily assured him. "It was stolen in nineteen-forty-four by the Nazis."

"They were in the art business?" Joe asked.

"Most definitely," she said. "It's been estimated that they were in possession of almost one-fifth of all Western art at the time. They looted the galleries and private collections of every European country they invaded."

Joe whistled low. "How much would a painting like this be worth?"

Emily shook her head. "It's priceless."

Nancy's eyes were determined. "I want to get into that prop room. Something fishy is definitely going on here."

"Let's check it out early in the morning, when the crew starts setting up for the day's shoot," Frank suggested.

Nancy nodded.

Joe looked at Frank. "If we're going to be up early in the morning investigating, would you mind doing something for me?"

"Sure," Frank responded. "What?"

"Get the hell out of my room."

Frank chuckled. "You got it." He helped Nancy up from the bed and took the file from her as they walk towards the door. Before he exited the room, he turned back to Joe and Emily. "Sorry for the interruption." He grinned and ducked out the door as Joe tossed a pillow at his head.

OOOoooOOO

Nancy and Frank entered their own hotel room with Nancy chattering animatedly.

"Imagine us actually being able to recover artwork that's been missing since the war!"

"That would be wonderful," he agreed. Nancy watched as he gazed around the room obviously looking for a place to hide the provenance file.

She walked over to the far side of the room and pushed a small table underneath the window. She motioned for Frank. He came over as she climbed onto the table. "Hand me the file."

He seemed puzzled, but gave it to her. She reached up behind the heavy valance hanging over the window and slipped the file underneath the edges of the brocade fabric which had been tacked onto the backside of the wood cornice. "There, that should hold it."

Frank gazed at her. "You're amazing," he said. "I never would've thought of that." He reached up and slipped his hands around her waist to lift her down.

Nancy placed her hands on his shoulders for support and sighed inwardly. Bess was right. She was denying her feelings. He really was one of the nicest guys she knew. And she was falling hard, no matter how much she tried to fight it. She figured it was time to stop fighting it. "Most men wouldn't have. Unless they have an intimate knowledge of how a valance is constructed," she said with a laugh.

Frank set her down on the floor, but didn't remove his hands from her waist.

Nancy gazed up into his eyes. "I want to thank you."

"Thank me? For what?"

"For being so nice to me tonight. I know I can get a little impatient when I'm investigating something." She noticed him raise an eyebrow in response to that. "Okay, a lot impatient." She smiled. "Anyway, thank you for being so understanding."

"No problem," he assured her.

She dropped her head down a little. "I actually think our personalities make for a good investigative team. You're so even-tempered and calm and reasonable and I'm so...not." She laughed. "What I mean is…I think a good investigator needs to be a mix of both of our personalities. And that's hard to find in just one detective. I, um, I think we're good together."

He smiled down at her, his hands tightening a little around her waist. "I think we're good together as well. But not only for detective work. I think we might be good together in other ways, too."

"Really?" She blushed a little and hung her head down. "In what other ways?"

Frank placed his finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. "In this way," he murmured as his lips brushed over hers in a gentle kiss.

"Oh," Nancy responded, her lips very close to his. "I think you might be right." She slid her hands over his arms and around his neck as he leaned forward and kissed her again softly. They broke apart and she stared up into his eyes, now warm and tender, gazing back at her. He bent his head down and her lips parted as his mouth gently covered hers again.

With a soft moan, Nancy sank against Frank's chest as he deepened the kiss. _Wow._ Hot sweeping strokes of his tongue against hers that made her breath hitch, and her knees grow weak.

After a minute, Frank pulled back slightly and seemed to be trying to gauge her reaction. "Well," Nancy murmured, resorting to the one-word line they often used with each other, much to Joe's chagrin.

"Well," he responded with a smile. He bent down and touched his lips to hers again. This time his kiss was urgent and slightly more aggressive than the previous two. This was definitely a side of Frank Hardy she'd never seen before. That carefully constructed wall of responsibility he was always hiding behind seemed to dissolve and she knew exactly what he wanted. Her.

"Oh, Nan," he gasped, breathing raggedly into her hair. "I've waited so long to do this."

Their lips found each other again, and Nancy sank her fingers into his hair. Without breaking contact, Frank walked her backwards to the bed. He laid her down, trapping her between his arms as he pulled back slightly. His mouth were a mere inch from hers and his breathing was unsteady. She moaned slightly and arched against him, demanding another kiss. Frank groaned deep in his chest and crushed his mouth against hers, seemingly as desperate in his passion as she was.

"Do you want this, Nan?" His voice was low, near her ear as his hand slid up her leg. "Do you really want this? I need to hear you say it."

Her mind was hazy, filled with the scent and taste of Frank. "Yes. Yes, I want this. I've wanted it forever." She opened her eyes and took in Frank's gaze, hot and possessive. "I want you."

Bells seemed to be ringing in the distance as Frank leaned down, nuzzling her neck and sliding his hand upward along her thigh. _That's different,_ she thought. She certainly never heard bells with Ned.

Frank groaned and sat up. Nancy shivered slightly, missing the warmth of his body against hers. Her mind was foggy as she reached for him.

He smiled down at her. "I think I'd better answer that. It could be about the case."

Nancy realized he was talking about the phone. "Oh."

Frank reached for the receiver as she struggled to clear her head.

"Hello?" Frank straightened up. "Yes, Mr. Drew. She's right here. This is Frank Hardy, sir."

Mr. Drew? Her father was calling her? Now? Nancy rolled her eyes. His timing was as bad as Joe's.

Nancy watched as the expression on Frank's face became serious. Mr. Responsible was back. Darn. He held out the phone toward her as she stood.

"Hi, Dad. Yes, everything is fine. Oh, that's ok. I always forget about time differences, too. No, Frank and Joe are here working on the case, too. Uh, huh. We're, um, doing some serious investigating right now, as a matter of fact. It's pretty intense."

Nancy snuck a glance at Frank who was smiling widely at her last remark. "Ok, I will. Love you too, Dad. Bye."

Frank sat on the bed. "Is that what we were doing? Serious investigating?"

Nancy giggled. "In a manner of speaking."

He patted the mattress and Nancy sat next to him. He reached for her, laying her back on the bed and leaning over her. "You're beautiful. Do you know that, Detective Drew?"

She blushed and looked down. "You're a flirt, Detective Hardy."

"No, that's Joe," Frank said with a grin. "I'm the sincere one." He bent down and kissed her gently. "And I mean it. You're beautiful."

She looked at him, then reached her hand up and touched his cheek.

"Thank you."

"Why did it take us so long to do this?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I mean…I wanted to. In Transylvania, when that bat was in my room, and you rushed in to save me? I wanted to then, but I thought you would think I was weak...not take me seriously as a detective."

"I never would have thought that," he said softly, reaching out to touch her hair.

"And then in LA, after you caught that guy at the studio? I realized that I was doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing you away, when all I really wanted was for us to be together."

"Hmm, well I don't entirely blame you for LA. A lot of that was Joe's fault. Especially that interruption in the lobby. He kind of broke the mood." Frank smiled at Nancy. "Of course, none of that matters anymore, does it?" He leaned over and kissed her again.

She began to giggle.

"What?" he murmured, his lips traveling to her neck.

"I'm just imagining people's expressions when we tell them about this." Although if Frank kept up what he was doing right now, she would definitely start imagining other things. She tilted her neck to give him better access and he nuzzled her near her collarbone. She shivered.

Frank chuckled. "Yeah, I think Joe and Emily will be a little surprised, too. Well, maybe not Emily. She's been pushing me to make a move on you."

"Then what on earth took you so long?" she asked in mock indignation.

"I don't know. But I'm sorry it did." He sat up and Nancy instantly regretted initiating a conversation. He brought her close to him and kissed her gently, then took both her hands in his while he looked into her eyes. "But I couldn't be happier than I am right now."

"Me, too," she whispered, as she leaned in for another kiss.

Frank held her against him and pressed his forehead to hers when the kiss ended. "I also want you to know that I think you're very special and I'm not looking at this as some sort of one-night stand."

Yep, Mr. Responsible was definitely back.

He kissed the top of her head. "So as much as I would love nothing more than to take this to the next level…I don't want to ruin anything before it's even started."

Nancy looked up into his eyes and smiled. "You really are amazing, you know that? There aren't many guys who would say that to a girl…given our position." She looked pointedly at the bed where they were seated.

Frank chuckled. "Yeah, well I'm pretty sure I'm going to hate myself in the morning for it." He stood up reluctantly and held out his hand to Nancy.

She took it then moved close to him and hugged him tightly. "You're one of the good guys, Frank, and I like that in a man."

"Oh, so I've won some points?"

"Hundreds of them." She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. "And I'll be sure to reward you for that."

He raised an eyebrow. "Now that sounds interesting."

Nancy walked over to her suitcase to get her nightgown. "Oh, it will be."

Frank cleared his throat and went over to his bag. "Emily told me you went shopping for something more comfortable to sleep in, but you didn't find anything you liked." He tossed her one of his t-shirts. "How about this?"

OOOoooOOO

Early the next morning, Joe rapped lightly on the door of his brother's hotel room. Frank opened it and let him in. Joe surveyed Frank's sleepy expression, then grinned and said brightly, "Morning, Sunshine!"

Frank gave him a dirty look and turned, walking into the main part of the room. Joe followed along behind him, then stopped short when he saw Nancy. She was standing by her suitcase wearing Frank's "Bayport High" t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She gathered up some items and noticed Joe standing there.

"Hey Joe," she said with a smile. "Where's Emily?"

"She's, uh, she's coming," he said, a bit startled. He watched as Nancy stepped past Frank, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek.

She entered the bathroom and Joe turned to stare at his brother with an amused expression on his face.

"Joe," Frank warned.

"I didn't say anything," Joe protested. "Did I say anything? I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to," Frank responded, his voice starting to break with laughter. "And you're jumping to conclusions."

"What? I am not. I am not jumping to conclusions." He surveyed the room. "I mean, just because Nancy's wearing your t-shirt, your bed sheets are disheveled, you kissed her. I'm sure that means nothing." He looked at Frank and smirked. "I'm not jumping to conclusions."

Frank turned around as another knock on the door was heard and Emily entered the room. "Oh, sorry, Frank," she apologized as she glanced at his boxers and t-shirt. "I thought you guys would be ready by now. I guess we're early." She walked over to stand near Joe, who put his arm around her.

"No baby, we're right on time. It's just that, uh, Frank and Nancy had a bit of a late night." He waved his hand around. "Things seem to be a little messy and Nance was only wearing Frank's 'Bayport High' t-shirt when I got here, not to mention that my brother is in his underwear in front of her, but uh, don't read anything into that." He gave Frank a toothy grin. "We're not jumping to conclusions."

Frank shook his head and waved his hand at Joe dismissively.

"See honey, when Frank came to our room the other day, and saw you in _my_ t-shirt, he jumped to some pretty big conclusions himself," Joe told Emily.

"Joe!" Frank called out.

"Now, of course, we're already a couple, so I don't really think our behavior was that unusual." Joe looked at Emily and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Now, what we have here, are two people who weren't a couple six hours ago, all of a sudden wearing the other one's clothes, rumpling the bed sheets and kissing each other. So, what do you think?" he asked Emily. "Be careful not to jump to any conclusions though."

Emily paused for a moment then looked over at Frank as a huge smile spread across her face. "Oh, Frank, you did it!"

"Now that is jumping to a very big conclusion," Joe remarked.

"I didn't mean _that_," Emily scolded him. She turned back to Frank. "Are you and Nancy...together?"

He smiled at her. "Yeah, we are."

She squealed with excitement, ran over and gave him a hug. "Oh, I'm so happy for both of you."

Frank patted her on the back. "Thank you. I am, too. You don't know how long it's taken us to get to this point."

"Or how painful it's been," Joe chimed in. "See Em, he could have avoided all of this if he'd only listened to me in Transylvania."

"Transylvania?"

"Didn't I tell you about that case?" Joe put his arm around her and started to walk her toward the door. He paused when he got to Frank and said, "We'll meet you down by the set." Then he grinned at him. "Oh, and congratulations."

"Get out of here, you two," Frank said with a smile.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Thanks for the wonderful reviews Kenna, TXMedic, Jackie, Virtute and Mrs. Frank Hardy! I can't tell you how happy it makes me to read them! You all are awesome! Onto the mystery...

Chapter 7

Later that morning, Frank arrived downstairs with Nancy to find Joe and Emily a safe distance from the set, observing what was going on.

"What's up?" Frank asked his brother.

"Not too much. They've been moving props around, but it doesn't look like they're setting up the same rooms they did last night."

"No, it doesn't," Frank agreed.

"Then that means the Gauguin is still in a prop room somewhere," Nancy surmised. "We only need to figure out which one."

Frank smiled at her. "Let's go."

"We'll wait here," Joe told them.

Frank took Nancy's hand and they sauntered through the set area and down the hallway. They stopped to watch men unloading props from several rooms. Nancy stopped one of the crew and asked, "Wow, how do you keep all this stuff organized?"

The guy paused in front of an outdoor furniture set. "Oh, it's all put away according to which room on the set it belongs in."

Nancy nodded. "I see. So what did you do with all the stuff from the living room you had out there last night?"

"It's in this storage room." He gestured with his head to a closed door behind him as he walked off, a small wicker table under his arm.

"Genius," Frank whispered, kissing her lightly on the head.

"Not genius yet," Nancy countered. "We've got to figure out how to get in there."

"Well, I don't think we'll be able to do it while they're unloading everything. Let's get Joe and Emily, have a quick bite to eat, and then come back."

"Now, that's genius," Nancy said, squeezing his hand.

OOOoooOOO

An hour later, the four of them gathered back near the prop room waiting for an opportunity to enter the place where the suspected Gauguin was being stored. Emily was filled with nervous excitement. She knew that if the painting was real, the art world would be turned on its ear. And if they actually found that Van Gogh…

"Should we all go in?" Joe asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"No, I'll wait here and stand guard," Nancy said.

"You don't want to come in?" Frank asked. Emily thought he sounded surprised about that. Come to think of it, she was, too. Why on earth wouldn't Nancy want to check out the prop room?

Nancy shook her head. "Someone has to keep watch, and Emily definitely needs to be there, and so should you and Joe if you have to carry anything out."

Frank smiled at her.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"That's just not the Nancy I know. Usually you like to…er…lead the cavalry charge.

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Not when there's someone else who is clearly better equipped to do it. And there is." She gave Frank a gentle shove. "Now get going, we have work to do."

"Now that's the Nancy I know," Frank said, leaning in a for a quick kiss.

They all walked over to the set, waiting amidst all the other on-lookers, to check out what was happening. When it appeared that the crew was done retrieving props for the day's shooting, Frank gestured to Emily and Joe. They casually followed him, strolling over to the closed prop room door. Emily watched, a bit nervously, as Frank picked the lock. He stepped inside and Joe hurried Emily through the door in front of him.

The space would normally have been an exhibit hall for business conferences, but now it was filled with floor to ceiling shelves holding a wide assortment of props from the TV show.

"Okay, what do we do now?" Joe asked.

"Find that painting," Emily declared.

Joe pointed to an index card labeled "living room accessories" tacked onto the end of a long aisle of metal shelving units. "It's got to be down here somewhere."

They wandered down the row, each stopping to rummage through the myriad of items being stored there, when Frank suddenly called out, "Over here."

Joe and Emily rushed to his side. Frank removed the Gauguin from one of the shelves and stood the painting on its end. "It's not very big."

"No, this particular work is only around twenty-two by fourteen inches," Emily said. "They have it matted though, which is kind of weird." She looked at the painting critically. "I don't think it's real. It almost looks like a giclée with some added brush strokes or something."

"I guess that means 'fake,'" Joe said over her head to Frank.

"Wait a minute." Emily began pulling the painting away from the frame.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked.

"Something's not right here." Emily continued to tug at the frame.

"Here," Frank said as he knelt down next to her. "Let me help." He gave the frame a good tug and it came away completely from the painting. The Gauguin, which was loosely placed under the gilt edge of the frame, slid to the floor, but what lay underneath made Emily gasp.

"Oh my word!" she exclaimed, all the color draining from her face.

"What? Honey, what is it?" Joe knelt down beside her, his face full of concern.

She stared at a painting that had been underneath the Gauguin, still firmly attached to its wooden stretcher. "That's it," she said in a strangled voice. And she knew it was. Instinctively. A painting by one of the world's great masters. One that had been missing for over thirty years. A wave of dizziness washed over her.

"That's what?" Joe wanted to know.

"That's the Van Gogh. '_Still Life: Vase with Oleanders_.'" She clutched at Joe and looked up at him with wild eyes. "The one that was stolen."

"During the war?" Joe was incredulous.

Emily nodded, feeling like she might faint.

"How do you know it's real?" Frank asked.

She reached forward with a trembling hand and reverently touched the canvas. "I don't for sure," she admitted. "But there's one thing I can check that might help."

She carefully turned the painting over to examine the stretcher. "Van Gogh detested the paint shops in the south of France and ordered everything from the firm of Tasset on Rue Fontaine in Paris. He also preferred mounting his own canvases rather than buying ready-made ones."

Emily squinted at the inside edges of the canvas. "No stamp from Tasset on here, but that could have faded or been cut off the edge." She fingered the corners of the stretcher. "This looks like handmade tacking. And, here." Along the wooden bar crossing the middle of the stretcher was a faintly penciled "Van Gogh". She gazed at the painting. Could it be? "Still not proof...but just look at these brush strokes. The colors. The feeling behind it. I would bet my life that it's real." She sighed. "The man was a genius."

"I always heard he was crazy," Joe said.

"He was," Emily acknowledged. "The two sometimes go hand in hand."

"Well, how do we get this out of here?" Frank asked. "I can't very well just walk out the door with it."

Emily reached for her large straw tote bag and fished a beach towel out of it. "Here." She delicately wrapped the painting and slipped it inside her bag. "There you go."

Joe smiled at Frank. "Isn't she amazing?"

Frank chuckled. "Yes, she is. Which sometimes makes me wonder exactly what she's doing with you," he added in a teasing tone.

Joe made a face at his brother, then paused for a moment as he heard Nancy's voice from the other side of the door. "Someone's coming."

Frank held up his hand to indicate silence as the three of them snuck over to the prop room door. Emily watched nervously as he opened it a crack and peered through. She could hear Nancy right outside, obviously trying to distract someone from entering the room.

"I just love your work, you know," Nancy gushed.

"Really? Well, I just love it when beautiful young women love what I do," Dirk Benson replied.

_Ewww_, Emily thought. Nancy definitely had her work cut out for her.

"You're right, Joe. He is an ass," Frank whispered over his shoulder.

Joe nodded in agreement.

"If you'll wait here for a second, little lady, we can continue this conversation after I retrieve something from the prop room," Dirk told Nancy.

"Oh gosh, that'll seem like forever." Nancy batted her eyelashes at him.

"It'll only take a second, I promise." Dirk gave her a sexy growl.

"Did he just _growl _at her?" Joe whispered.

Emily stepped quietly over to the door and slid under Frank's arm to watch Nancy. "I have to see how she gets out of this," she whispered, peeking through the crack.

As she looked into the hallway, she could see Nancy staring up at Dirk with a starry expression in her eyes. "Oh, Mr. Benson, please don't make me wait for you!"

With that pronouncement, Nancy flung her arms around Dirk Benson's neck and pressed her lips to his. Dirk seemed startled...only for a moment, and then returned the kiss with fervor, his arms going around Nancy, holding her tightly, as his hands roamed up and down her back.

"Brilliant," Emily whispered then nudged Frank. "Go on, what are you waiting for?"

Frank stood firmly rooted to the ground like he was in shock, not taking his eyes off Dirk and Nancy.

"Go, Frank!" Joe ordered in a low voice, shoving him into the hall. Emily hurried around the corner and then watched as an exasperated Joe grabbed Frank's arm and dragged him over to where she was standing. She thought Frank looked somewhat shell-shocked at what he'd just seen. Then she watched as his posture visibly stiffened and his eyes grew dark.

"I'm going to stop this right now," Frank said firmly and he started back toward Nancy. He didn't get very far, as Nancy came flying around the corner and almost smacked into him. His arms reached out to steady her and she stepped into them for a hug.

"I was worried for a minute," Nancy said. "I didn't know if you guys could hear me in there."

"Thanks, Nancy," Emily spoke up. "I know how...distasteful...that must have been."

"To say the least," Nancy said with a chuckle. "He's a bit on the smarmy side. And why was he going into the prop room in the first place? I mean, what would an actor need in there? And if he did need something, the union rules dictate that a stage guy would have to get it. So, what gives?"

"I don't know," Frank answered in a quiet tone.

Nancy shook her head. "Something's going on with that guy. I think he might be in on all this. When he was hugging me back there, I thought I felt a gun in his front pocket."

"You sure it was a gun?" Joe cracked.

Emily gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"I think we need to keep a closer eye on Mr. Dirk Benson," Nancy said.

"Well, we did hit the jackpot," Emily told her, her eyes still glistening with excitement. "So, it was worth sacrificing yourself."

"You mean the Gauguin was real?" Nancy asked.

"Even better than that," Joe promised. "Let's go upstairs and we'll fill you in."

"Come to our room," Nancy said. "I want to brush my teeth."

OOOoooOOO

In his hotel room, Frank remained uncharacteristically quiet the entire time Emily and Joe were explaining to Nancy about the Van Gogh. Thoughts of Nancy standing in the hall wrapped in the arms of that jackass actor kept invading his thoughts. That kiss hadn't been friendly or quick either. It had been "involved". He looked up as Emily took the canvas from Nancy and bent down to place it back in her beach bag, while Joe paced back and forth.

"Okay, well let's notify the agency and see what they want us to do next," Joe suggested. "I'm not really comfortable having to keep a priceless painting safe."

"I agree," Nancy said. She looked at Frank. "What do you think?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied in a monotone voice.

"Um, I'll make the call from one of the payphones downstairs," Joe said. "Just in case."

Nancy nodded. "How about if we meet up with you for lunch?"

"Sounds good," Emily stood up. "See you in a little while."

OOO

Joe stepped into the hallway with Emily, leaned against the wall outside of Frank and Nancy's door, and crossed his arms in front of him. His brother was being an ass. And totally blowing this relationship. And as much as Nancy sometimes got on Joe's nerves…he knew she was perfect for Frank.

"Man, he can really be clueless sometimes," Joe complained.

"You mean the way Frank's acting right now?"

"Yeah." Joe paused. "I want to talk to him for a minute. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Emily responded. She touched him lightly on the arm. "Don't let him blow it with Nancy."

Joe leaned in and kissed her. "I won't. See you back in the room."

"I'll be there," she said with a smile and headed off down the hall.

OOOoooOOO

Back in Frank and Nancy's room, Nancy turned to him from her position on the bed. "Spill it, Hardy," she ordered. Something was definitely bugging him. She thought he was acting like he was jealous of Dirk. But that didn't even make sense to her. What she'd done with Dirk was all an act.

"What?"

"You know what. You're mad at me. And I have a sneaking suspicion it's because of Dirk Benson."

"I'm not mad at you." Frank plopped down in one of the mahogany chairs.

"Oh, really? Then what are you?"

"I'm upset."

"And the difference is...?"

"The difference is...I just didn't like it," Frank said and shrugged.

"Didn't like what? Me saving your butt? Or me having to be mauled by that low-life pretty boy?"

Frank spoke very softly. "You looked like you were enjoying it."

Nancy rose from the bed. "Oh my gosh! You did _not _just say that, Frank Hardy!" She marched over to him and poked her finger into his chest with her next words. "Enjoyed it? You thought I enjoyed having that butt-head shove his tongue down my throat? Are you insane?"She threw her arms into the air before Frank could manage to respond. "I seriously can't believe you think that!"

She walked over to the hotel room door and paused before she flung it open. "Look, I did what I did because you were trapped in that room. And I used the only thing I had in my possession at the time to do it. The fact that I'm a female and he's a total womanizer. And you know what? It worked. You, Joe and Emily are safe. Not to mention a priceless Van Gogh."

Nancy shook her head. "I need some air." She stormed through the doorway, almost knocking Joe over.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him!" Nancy said angrily as she took off down the hall.

OOOoooOOO

Frank slumped down in the mahogany chair next to the table, trying not to sulk as Joe re-entered the room. Great. He was not in the mood for his brother right now.

"Wow, that's got to be some kind of record. How long were you two together? Fifteen, twenty minutes?"

"Shut up," Frank said.

"Okay," Joe replied. He grabbed a chair from in front of the desk, turned it backwards and straddled it. "I take it this is about Dirk Benson?"

Frank didn't respond.

"You know, Frank, it's not like you caught her cheating with someone. She did it strictly to save your ass."

"She did the same thing in LA," Frank said dully. "Remember? Robert Wagner? I catch the criminal and that clown takes all the credit."

"I don't recall Nancy kissing Robert Wagner," Joe said. "I do, however, remember you saying something about kissing Jaclyn Smith."

"_That_ was not the same thing. She kissed me," Frank clarified.

"Oh, and you didn't return the kiss at all," Joe said. "You just stood there, right?"

"Well...no. But she started it. This is totally different. Nancy instigated the kiss. And it looked like she was enjoying it," Frank insisted.

"Yeah, and it just sucked kissing Jaclyn Smith. No damn fun at all."

Frank looked up at Joe. "You think I'm being an idiot?"

"I do."

"What if it were Emily?"

"I'd want to punch his lights out," Joe assured him. "But I wouldn't be mad at Emily."

_Yep, I'm an idiot,_ Frank thought. And Nancy was right, what choice did she have? There wasn't any other way for her to stop Dirk. He sighed heavily. He had totally screwed up with her…once again.

Frank nodded at his brother. "You're right."

Joe held his hand up to his ear. "I'm sorry, would you mind repeating that?" he asked with a grin.

Frank chuckled. "I said, 'you're right', Joe. And you'd better make a note of it, because you won't be hearing it too often."

"I just wanted to make sure I got it." Joe stood up. "Now would you please go find Nancy and make up with her so that I can tell Emily I've done my duty?"

"Yeah. I don't think it's going to be very easy though. She's plenty furious with me."

Joe sighed as he turned the chair back around. "Have you not learned anything from me over the years?"

Frank gave him a questioning look.

"Why do you think this hotel has a jewelry store downstairs? Ordinarily, I'd say a dozen roses would do it, but you managed to mess this up to the jewelry level on your first fight. That takes some talent."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it was a stellar performance on my part."

"Don't worry bro. You'll be able to sweet talk her back into your arms in no time. She really is crazy about you, you know." Joe clapped him on the shoulder. "Jewelry store. And don't pick out something on your own. Ask for help. From a woman sales clerk, not a man."

Frank managed a smile. "You have this down to a science, don't you?"

"Sadly," Joe replied.

"Well, since I consider you the voice of experience in matters like this, I will take your advice. The jewelry store it is."

Joe pointed his finger at Frank. "Ah, you're learning." They both stepped out into the hall. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to my woman." He grinned and gave Frank the thumbs up sign as he walked off.

Frank sighed deeply, the knot of dread in his stomach growing larger by the minute. He prayed he hadn't lost her for good. Because if he had, he knew he'd never get over it.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews, Mrs. Frank, Kenna, Jackie, Leya, bhar and Virtute! They made my day! A little romance mixed in with the mystery here as things get more confusing.

Chapter 8

After stopping in the lobby to call the agency with a progress report, Joe returned to his hotel room. He paused in front of the door and noticed it was slightly ajar. Alarmed, he slowly opened it and cautiously walked inside. A total mess greeted him. The room had been ransacked. Furniture overturned, the bed completely torn apart, his and Emily's clothes and personal items strewn all over the place. Panic overtook him as he looked around. His girlfriend was nowhere to be found.

"Emily!" Joe shouted. He began looking on the floor, on the balcony, in the bathroom, anywhere he felt she might be lying injured or unconscious. His breath began coming faster and faster and his eyes were wild with fear. "Emily!"

"What is it?" Emily's voice answered him from the hallway. "What's the matter, sweet..." her voice trailed off as she reached the entrance to their room. "Oh my gosh," she said upon viewing the mess.

Hearing her, Joe jumped over a chair and suitcase blocking his way and crushed her to him. "Oh, baby," he said, relief washing over him in waves. "Oh, thank God." He held her more tightly than he thought was possible and buried his face in her hair.

"Joe, what happened?" Emily asked worriedly. "Are you okay?"

He didn't say anything, only held her close to him and tried to steady his breathing.

"Joe?" Emily's voice grew more concerned.

He leaned back and brushed her hair from her face. "When I came in here, and saw all this, and then I couldn't find you..."

He drew her back into his arms and paused for a moment, fighting for composure. "It's just that I love you so much, the thought of something happening to you again..."

She pulled away from him slightly. "What did you say?"

Joe blushed and hung his head a little bit. "I'm sorry. This wasn't the way I planned on telling you that. I had it all worked out. A romantic walk on the beach in the moonlight, a place where we could be all alone...I'm sorry, sweetheart. I messed up."

"No, you didn't," Emily assured him. "You didn't mess up at all." She ran her hand along his cheek. "Oh, Joe, I love you, too," she said softly. "More than I ever imagined I could."

He didn't reply. He simply pulled her into him and kissed her. His lips covered hers, tender and sweet, as her hands came forward and rested lightly on his hips. Then she slipped them beneath his shirt and moved them over his stomach and around to his back, gliding her fingers up and down, holding him closer as if she couldn't get enough of him.

The words "tender" and "sweet" were no longer in Joe's vocabulary. His kiss became hot and insistent and Emily responded with a little whimper that went straight through him. He moved his mouth to her jaw and she clung to him, trembling. "I love you, Joe. I love you so much."

He closed his eyes and shuddered, overwhelmed by the intensity of the emotions running through him. He scooped Emily up in his arms and headed in the general direction of their bed.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten about the shambles their room was in and promptly tripped over a pair of his own sneakers. He stumbled forward, crashed into the mattress, and dropped them both into the midst of debris strewn across it.

"Ow," said Emily, and she rubbed the back of her head where it had smacked against a pair of binoculars.

Joe brushed the remaining items covering the bedspread onto the floor with one furious sweep, then turned to his girlfriend. "Baby, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" He didn't wait for an answer, and instead lifted her up and began pushing her hair aside on the back of her head, searching for an injury.

"Joe, I'm fine," she protested. She batted his hand away and began laughing. "That was an incredibly romantic move."

Joe took her face in his hands, leaned in close, and kissed her. "I did mention how hard I fell for you from the first moment I saw you. I just wanted to show you."

She giggled. "I think we both fell hard."

"I love you, Emily."

She kissed him, sweet and hot. "I love you, Joe."

OOOoooOOO

Frank exited the small jewelry store in the promenade area of the resort and examined the bracelet he purchased moments ago. It was pink, freshwater cultured pearls with a white gold clasp. The sales clerk assured him that any woman would be thrilled to receive it.

But Nancy was not any woman, he thought wryly. He wasn't altogether certain how the feisty detective would take such an offering on his part. He guessed Joe was right. That was part of the reason he was so attracted to her.

He put the bracelet back in the cushioned box and headed off in search of Nancy. He found her walking along the beach, the surf lapping at her ankles as she strolled. She seemed lost in thought. Frank sighed, then straightened his shoulders as he fortified himself from within, and called out, "Hey, Drew!"

Nancy glanced at him, then turned back and continued walking. Frank ran up to her then slowed his pace to match hers. They strolled a few feet in silence when Frank put his hand on her arm. "Please, Nan, I need to apologize."

She stopped and sighed. "Yes, you do."

"I'm so sorry," Frank began. "I know I overreacted." He stopped, searching for the words he wanted to say. "It's just that when I saw you with him, even though I knew in my head what you were doing wasn't real, it was like my emotions completely took over. I felt sick to my stomach. I was so jealous, I could hardly see straight. I felt like I'd been sucker punched."

He bent his head down. "It made me realize what it would feel like to lose you, and I knew I couldn't stand that after all we went through to finally get together."

Frank took her hand in his. "I know I was a complete jerk, and I apologize with all my heart. I didn't mean anything I said to you, Nancy. And, I know I don't deserve it, but will you give me a second chance? Please?" He did his best to give her the puppy-dog eyes he saw Joe use so often on Emily, always getting Joe exactly the results he wanted.

Nancy laughed. "Okay, Hardy. I accept." She squeezed his hand. "But only because that was an exceptionally sweet apology."

"And I'm not finished." Frank took out the jewelry box and handed it to her. "A peace offering. And a symbol of our new relationship. I hope you'll wear it, and when you look at it, know how I feel about you. How much I care."

She took the box and opened it slowly. "Oh, Frank," she breathed when she saw the pearls. "Oh, it's beautiful. You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to do this," he insisted. He removed the bracelet from the box, and put it around her wrist, securing the clasp.

"It's gorgeous," Nancy said, twisting her hand back and forth as she admired it. She looked sideways at him with a little smile on her face. "You're completely forgiven."

He smiled, relief crashing over him like the waves hitting the nearby shore. "You don't know how good it feels to hear you say that," he said, taking her into his arms and hugging her tightly.

Frank bent her backwards slightly, and as she tilted her face up to his, he brought his lips down over hers, kissing her gently. Well, he started out gently, but then she looked up at him, with her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed and Frank completely forgot they were standing on a public beach.

His mouth met hers again, and this time the kiss was all-consuming and raw. Nancy wound her arms around his neck and pressed her body into his and Frank forgot his name. He forgot everything except the rush of heat running through his body and the feel of Nancy's bare skin under his hands, which had somehow slipped under her shirt.

The sound of a wolf whistle pierced through his brain and Frank pulled away startled. A group of teenagers strolling past them were laughing.

"Go for it!" one of them called out.

His common sense returned with a vengeance. "I guess we'd better cool it, huh?"

Nancy smiled. "While we're on the beach in broad daylight, anyway."

Frank ran his hand over his mouth unsteadily. "Yeah."

Nancy took his hand in hers. "Race you back to our room."

OOOoooOOO

An hour later, Joe opened his hotel room door to find Frank and Nancy standing on the other side, hands entwined and smiling.

"Well, I see things are back to normal," Joe commented. He gestured for them to enter the room. "Things are fairly normal here, too."

Frank and Nancy stood still, surveying the mess that Joe and Emily had been cleaning up.

"Wow, what happened?" Nancy asked, her eyes wide.

"Oh, just the usual Hardy hotel stay," Joe quipped. "It's not really complete unless our room's been ransacked."

He lifted a shoe off the dresser. "It's not as bad as it used to be. I'm not feeling so personally violated anymore." He sighed and dropped the shoe in the closet. "It's actually become rather routine."

Joe didn't want to scare Emily, but that fact that someone had been in their room, most likely at the same time she could have been, terrified him. In his phone call with the agency, he told them in no uncertain terms that he and Emily were to be assigned to another room. And that it was not to be done through the hotel's main desk. No one on staff was to know about it.

He glanced at his girlfriend, who was picking up toiletries that had been thrown from the bathroom counter. She didn't seem frightened and he wanted to keep it that way.

"This is about the provenance file," Frank surmised.

"Why do you say that?" Nancy asked.

"Because of our breaking in here last night." Frank gestured to the other side of the room. "The connecting doors. I couldn't lock the one on the Brookfields' side after we got in here. The bellhop must have noticed."

Nancy nodded. "You're probably right."

"Of course, he didn't find the file in here, so maybe we have him confused," Frank continued to theorize.

"Well, you know we still don't have much to go on here," Joe pointed out, handing Emily some of her clothing that had been strewn on the floor. "I mean, all we know for sure is that the Brookfields are obviously couriers of some sort, the bellhop is the delivery guy, but who is ultimately responsible for all of this? It's got to be somebody on that show. Somebody with some power."

"Then that's where our focus has to be," Frank concluded.

"Joe, what did the agency say?" Nancy wanted to know.

"They're going to send someone to pick up the painting," Joe replied. "They'll call back and let us know where and when to meet him." He eyed Emily's beach bag. "Hopefully, today. It makes me nervous having that thing around."

"Well, I'd like to have it authenticated, that's for sure," Frank said.

"So, what should we do now?" Joe asked. "I mean besides cleaning up this mess." He gestured around the room.

"We'll help you with that," Nancy offered, grabbing some items that had been tossed from the bathroom.

"Then let's go check out that TV show set again," Frank suggested.

"Yeah, I think we need to get a closer look at what Mr. Jackass has been up to," Joe agreed.

"Emily and I have been close enough, thank you," Nancy said to Joe. "If he needs to be kissed again…you or Frank will have to do it."

Joe tossed the pillow in his hand at Nancy's head.

OOOoooOOO

Thirty minutes later, Frank and Nancy approached the set of _The Resort_, looking around for anything that might be a clue. Frank paused to watch a scene in progress, featuring Dirk Benson romancing yet another leading lady. He snorted. "That guy never quits, does he?"

Nancy gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "He's all style and no substance," she said.

He turned and smiled down at her, kissing her gently on the lips. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now, I think we need to separate a bit, look around, and see if anything seems suspicious."

Frank agreed. "You stay here by the set, and I'll check by the prop rooms again."

Nancy nodded, as Frank headed the other way.

OOOoooOOO

Joe finished picking up the last of the items strewn all over his hotel room and sighed. He hated this. He hated having a priceless painting that half the criminals in the world would want if they knew about it, sitting in his girlfriend's beach bag. He hated jackass thugs who thought ransacking a hotel room equaled an afternoon of fun. But what he hated most was thinking that he had placed the woman he loved in danger. He sighed again as the phone rang and rushed over to answer it.

"Hello? Yeah, this is Joe Hardy. Okay." He fumbled around on the desk for a pen and paper. "Yeah, 'Pineapple Place'. Uh huh, I got it. Five o'clock. Yes, I'll be there. Right. And what's the new room number? Yep. Thanks. I'll move her there as soon as I can. Bye."

He hung up the extension and turned to find Emily looking at him anxiously.

"I've got to drop off the painting in an hour," he said.

"Joe, I'm worried," she confessed.

"Don't be. Everything's going to be fine. And we're moving to another room as soon as I get back. The agency arranged it and no one on the staff here knows about it."

Emily made a little face.

"Come on." He hugged her closely. "I don't want you worrying, okay? The sooner the agency gets this painting, the sooner they can authenticate it, and the sooner it can get back into a museum where it belongs. Right?" He smiled down at her. "It's what Van Gogh would have wanted," he added teasingly.

"Oh, Joe!" She swatted at him then giggled. "Do you promise me that you'll be careful?"

"Cross my heart, baby." He grinned and started walking her backwards toward the bed. When the back of her legs hit the mattress, he gave her a gentle shove until they were both lying across the bed. Emily giggled as Joe began kissing her neck.

"Joe," she protested. "I'm serious!"

"Me too, honey." He gave her a little tickle in the ribs with his free hand, as his kisses trailed over to her throat.

He heard Emily squeal as he tickled her, then she put both her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her. She covered his mouth with her own, and kissed him so deeply and with such feeling, that it left Joe breathless.

He allowed her to roll him over so he was lying on his back and she was straddling him. His brain immediately short-circuited when she reached slid her hand down his chest and over his stomach, all the while, continuing to kiss him passionately, over and over again. His abdomen tightened as her fingers came to rest lightly near his belt buckle. Joe moaned, giving in to the pure physical need he felt for her. He tangled his fingers in her hair, and intensified the kiss, as he pulled her body flush against his. Every part of him wanted her, needed her, loved her, more than he could express with words. Emily finally broke away, and stared intently into his eyes.

"I mean it, Joe Hardy," she said, her breath coming in gasps. "You be careful. I do not want anything to happen to you. Do you understand?"

For an answer, Joe reached up and pulled her into him, kissing her urgently. "I love you, baby," he said raggedly into her ear. He kissed her again, with deep longing. "And if I don't leave now, I am definitely not going to make that appointment. In fact, if I don't go now…we won't leave this room for a week." He released her slowly and reluctantly stood up. "I promise I'll be okay."

Joe walked over to Emily's beach bag and took out the Van Gogh, still wrapped in the beach towel, and placed it gently in a large plastic sack he'd gotten from the gift shop. He turned and gave her a smile, holding out his arms. She jumped up from the bed and ran over to him for another hug.

He kissed her tenderly then walked to the door. "Don't worry, Frank will be with me. And the agency promised me they would assign undercover guards to this hallway. So, I want you to lock this door behind me, stay in this room, and don't open it for anyone you don't know." He pointed his finger at her and grinned. "And that's an order."

He walked out of his room and shut the door quickly, not wanting to see the wobbly smile on his girlfriend's face any longer. He hated leaving her. He headed down the hall, his brow furrowed, unable to shake the feeling of uneasiness that suddenly came over him.

OOOoooOOO

Frank was lurking in the corridor near the prop rooms, hoping to discover something that might lead him to whomever was spearheading the art smuggling ring. He turned to see Joe heading rapidly toward him.

"I got the call, Frank."

"From the agency?"

"Yeah, we have to meet a guy at a local market at five o'clock."

"Why not here?"

"He thought it would be too risky."

Frank nodded. "Yeah, maybe." He started walking toward the set. "Let me tell Nan." He sighed. "She's probably going to insist on coming."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Me neither," he replied. "I'll try and talk her out of it."

"Like that's ever worked," Joe muttered sarcastically.

They walk over to the area where the filming is going on, and found Nancy standing off to the side of the action. Dirk Benson was no longer on the set, and the crew was rearranging the props.

Frank approached Nancy. "Hey, we got the call to deliver the painting."

Nancy nodded. "Good."

"Yeah," he continued. "Joe and I are going to head over to a local market. We meet our agency contact at five."

"Okay," she said somewhat absently.

"Um, Joe and I will come back as soon as we're finished."

"Fine," Nancy agreed. She looked at Frank and smiled. "Be safe."

"I will," he said, surprised. Something was going on here. The Nancy he knew would insist on coming along, if not delivering the painting to the contact herself. Staying behind during an investigation was not on Nancy Drew's radar.

She put her arms around him and kissed him softly. "I mean it."

"I know." He smiled back and hugged her, then turned and headed toward Joe. She definitely had something planned that she didn't want him knowing about. He checked his watch. He couldn't wait any longer to figure it out or he and Joe would miss their meeting. He sighed and decided he'd have to get used to things like this if she was going to be his girlfriend. His girlfriend. He liked the sound of that, he thought, as he approached his brother.

"That was easy," Joe commented.

"Yeah, a little too easy."

Joe clapped him on the back. "Well, look at it this way. Maybe you've finally tamed the headstrong Nancy Drew."

"No, something is up."

"We'll figure it out later, bro. We've got a priceless Van Gogh to unload right now." Joe said, as they headed to the front desk to pick up a rental car.

"Yeah," Frank agreed, following behind Joe. He just hoped Nancy wouldn't do anything reckless while he was gone.

OOOoooOOO

After Frank and Joe were out of sight, Nancy looked down at a note that had been handed to her. She read it again, then put it in the pocket of her shorts and headed upstairs to find Emily.

She knocked on Emily and Joe's door, and Emily answered. "Oh, hi, Nancy. I wasn't expecting you. Weren't you downstairs doing some investigating?"

"Yeah, but something rather funny happened." Nancy stepped inside the room.

Emily shut the door. "Funny? What do you mean?"

"Here. Read this." Nancy handed her the note.

Emily took it from her and read aloud, "Please meet me in my dressing room in thirty minutes. It's important. Bring your female friend. Dirk." She looked up at Nancy. "What? Is he joking?"

"I don't think so," Nancy replied. "He handed this to me as he was walking off the set. He didn't look at me either, just shoved it in my hand. Like he didn't want anyone else to know."

"Are you saying you think we should go?" Emily sounded incredulous. "Nancy, this guy is a total mover, and he's asking for both of us. I mean...eewww!"

Nancy laughed. "Well, I think we can get out of there pretty fast if that's what he has in mind. But my instincts are telling me that it's something else."

Emily shrugged. "You're the detective, not me. Yeah, I'll go." She laughed. "Good thing Frank and Joe aren't here right now. They would kill us both."

"You're right about that," Nancy agreed. "Shall we see what the dashing Mr. Benson has in mind?"

"I think I know what he has in mind," Emily said with a sigh. She grabbed her room key and walked to the door with Nancy behind her.

Nancy knew she and Emily would be able to handle whatever Dirk was dishing out. She just hoped that Frank and Joe would feel the same way when they learned about it.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews, Killian, Mrs. Frank, Jackie and Virtute! They put a smile on my face for the whole day! And, as a little background, each of the paintings mentioned in this story are real works by the artists. They are also really missing. Since I am a huge history geek, I thought it would be fun to have them turn up as "found" in this story. Thanks again to all who are reading!

Chapter 9

Joe parked the rental car in the lot of the outdoor market where they were to meet their contact and looked at his brother, who was surveying the area through the windshield.

"Okay," Frank said. "Just to be safe, you go to the meeting spot, and I'll back you up. If there's one thing we've learned while doing something like this, it's to expect the unexpected."

Joe nodded. "And I promised Em I'd come back safe and sound, so you be sure you're on your toes."

"Don't worry bro, I got your back." He smiled. "I don't want Emily heartbroken."

Joe stepped out of the car with the plastic sack in tow, and strolled through the market, with vendors calling out to the tourists in every direction. He looked through the stalls, trying to find the one selling baskets. He spotted it at the end of a row, and positioned himself near the corner, waiting for the man the agency had told him would meet him there. It would be a local officer, dressed in a straw hat, red shirt and khaki shorts. He was going to try to sell Joe on a tour through the city, which Joe was supposed to agree to take. When they left the area, Joe would hand over the painting.

Joe checked his watch. Five o'clock. He was right on time. No one fitting the description of the agent was anywhere in sight. It figured. He actually could have spent more time with Emily. No, then he never would have made it here at all. He grinned at the thought.

Momentarily, a man in a white suit approached. "Joe Hardy?"

Joe nodded.

"This way."

Joe hesitated.

The man pulled his suit coat slightly aside, revealing a gun. "I said this way."

Joe sighed and began walking with him past the stalls. Of course. A set-up. Someone was screwing him and Frank over and he was damn sure going to find out who it was. As soon as he managed to get himself out of his current predicament. As they rounded the corner, the man led him through an open door into a warehouse where the market stalls and merchandise were kept at the end of each day.

Joe's mind was racing, taking in his surroundings and looking for any possible means of escape. He caught a glimpse of stacked orange crates to his left, and in an instant, grabbed them and hurled them at his attacker, causing the man to stumble. Joe took off through the warehouse, slipping down a row bordered by pallets stacked with merchandise boxes. He crouched behind one and waited.

OOO

Meanwhile, Frank was standing in the marketplace taking in everything that had happened to his brother. He watched as the man in the white suit approached Joe and led him in the direction of the warehouse. _Damn it,_ thought Frank. _Someone sold us out._

He was starting to get the feeling that he and his brother were somehow pawns in this whole investigation and that someone in the agency wasn't playing nice.

Frank dashed down the row of stalls, looking for something he might be able to use as a weapon. He spotted a vendor selling various types of glassware. Quickly, he picked up several different large pieces, testing them for their weight. He selected a heavy vase, made of cobalt blue glass and looked at the vendor.

"How much?"

The vendor shrugged his shoulders, and Frank knew he was ready to begin the traditional haggling that accompanied these types of market transactions.

"I said, how much?" Frank repeated in an angry tone.

"Thirty-five dollars," the vendor suggested.

Frank reached into his pocket, tossed two twenty dollar bills at the merchant and rushed off, as the vendor shook his head and muttered over the "stupid American tourists".

Frank snuck into the warehouse, listening for the slightest sound that might indicate where his brother was. He ducked behind a forklift and crept silently toward the middle of the building. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of crashing boxes and a shout from Joe. Frank hurried toward the noise.

Joe's assailant had grabbed him by the arm from behind. Joe whirled around and the man punched him in the stomach. As Joe doubled over in pain, the man pulled his gun out of his pocket. "Now," he said. "I want the painting." He reached out to take it from Joe, who was still bent over. Joe reared up and hit him hard in the jaw. The man's gun flew out of his hands, and he grabbed Joe and took another swing at him, connecting with his cheek.

Frank rushed up behind the attacker and clobbered him over the back of the head with the cobalt vase. The man dropped to the ground, unconscious. Joe, wincing with pain, snatched up the sack containing the painting and turned to Frank. "About damn time you got here."

Frank grinned. "Just wanted to make sure you're keeping your street fighting skills sharp." He leaned down to check the man's pockets. "Nothing."

"Get the gun," Joe ordered.

Frank picked it up off the floor, then walked over and put his arm around Joe's shoulders. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Joe grimaced. "Or at least I will be."

They walked out of the warehouse to their rental jeep. "Guess that wasn't really our agency contact," Frank said.

"Nope, and now I'd say we have a mess on our hands." Joe eased himself slowly into the rental car.

"At least we still have the Van Gogh," Frank said, starting the ignition.

"Until some other goon tries to take it from us."

OOOOoooOOO

Nancy stood with Emily outside the hotel room that Dirk Benson was using for his dressing room. A little anxiety about how "Overprotective Joe" was going to react to her putting his girlfriend in this position gave Nancy pause. But only for a moment. Her detective's intuition won out in the end. And it was telling her that Dirk Benson was not all he seemed to be.

"Here goes nothing," she said, and knocked on the door.

The actor opened it immediately, and upon seeing them ushered them in quickly. "Thanks for coming."

"We almost didn't," Nancy said.

"I can understand that." He stepped back and allowed them to walk past him. "Please, have a seat."

Dirk's dressing room was a hotel room stripped of its usual furnishings. In their place were instead: a large makeup table topped with a mirror and surrounded by lights, a huge wardrobe area with clothing spread out all over, an ironing board, an overstuffed couch, and a table with four chairs surrounding it. The table was set, and dinner was being dished out by a waiter.

The girls stood quietly while the waiter finished arranging large salads, fresh fruit, lemonade and a bread basket. Dirk smiled his thanks, handed the man a tip then showed him out the door. "Shall we?" he said to the girls.

Nancy exchanged glances with Emily as they sat down.

"I don't mean to be rude," Nancy spoke up. "But would you mind telling me what this is all about?"

Dirk took a roll and broke off a piece. He buttered it and popped it in his mouth before speaking. After he swallowed, he said, "I know you're going to find this hard to believe." He took out a leather wallet from his pocket, opened it and handed it to Nancy. "My real name is Steven Ross, and I'm an agent with the FBI Art Fraud Division."

Emily looked at him sharply, while Nancy studied his ID. "I will admit this looks real Mister, er, Ross." She handed it back to him. "But I'm going to need to authenticate you from another source.

Dirk nodded. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Nancy Drew." He stood, walked over to his dressing table, grabbed his phone and handed it to her. "Please."

Nancy took it and dialed. In a moment, Carson Drew picked up his extension in River Heights. "Hi, Dad? Yeah, I'm fine. Yes, it's beautiful down here. Listen Dad, I need you to do me a really big favor. Could you call Jim Shipman right now and check on a government ID for me? Yes, the name is Steven Ross. FBI Art Fraud. I kind of need the information immediately. Okay. Call me back at..." she paused to look at the phone. "876-555-2365. Yeah, thanks Dad."

Nancy hung up. "You might as well start explaining while I'm waiting."

Dirk nodded. "I'm here trying to break up one of the world's most lucrative art smuggling rings. As you already know, a good deal of valuable art is being laundered through here. It's my job to try to get to the bottom of it."

"Then why are we here?" Emily asked.

"You're here because sometimes younger people can go and do things those of us over thirty can't. Also, we need some fresh eyes. To say that this investigation is stalled is an understatement." Dirk sighed. "Unfortunately my cover has been so successful that it's hampering my ability to do my real job."

Emily laughed as she took a sip of her lemonade. "Weren't you on the cover of _People_ last month?"

"Yeah," he said and grinned. "Your tax dollars at work." He ate a mouthful of salad. "Let's just say the bureau didn't anticipate me becoming a heartthrob. Whatever that is."

"So, you mean you're really not the brain-dead, womanizing, macho jerk you appear to be?" Emily asked.

Dirk snorted. "Not hardly. That's what I should really win an Emmy for...my portrayal of 'Dirk Benson'. Not my acting on _The Resort_.

They were interrupted by a ringing telephone. Dirk answered it, then handed it to Nancy. "Hi, Dad. It is? Really? Okay, thanks Dad. Love you, too. Bye." She hung up. "It appears you're for real, Dirk. Or should I say Steven?"

"Dirk," he replied. "I need to stay undercover."

Nancy nodded then smiled. "I knew something was up when I met you by the prop room. You had no business being there as an actor."

He grinned at her. "Oh, and I'm sorry for the things I said to you then. And for the kiss."

Nancy waved her hand. "Don't apologize, I kissed you." She smiled at Emily. "I told Frank that was a gun in his pocket."

Emily choked on her lemonade and held her napkin up to her mouth.

Dirk leaned back in his chair, surveyed the young women and grinned. "I'm going like working with you two."

Nancy took a grape from the fruit bowl and popped it in her mouth. "Frank and Joe may be another story, however." Especially since they thought Dirk was the biggest ass to walk the planet. She knew they wouldn't be as forgiving of the agent's fake playboy reputation as she was. And even though he had apologized, Nancy could tell the kiss still bothered Frank. And Joe got irritated by anyone who even looked at Emily the wrong way. She ate another grape. Men.

"Ah, the famous Hardy brothers." He smiled. "I kind of got off on the wrong foot with them, didn't I?"

"I think it'll be fine once we explain everything," Emily assured him. "They were just a little upset because of the personal relationships we have. They mistook your…uh…tactics for something else entirely."

Nancy glanced over at Emily and thought she was being overly optimistic. Frank and Joe were going to hit the roof when they learned about this little escapade.

Dirk nodded. "I understand. And I'm sorry you weren't informed about all this sooner. The shooting schedule didn't allow me any time away from the set."

"So you knew we were coming?" Nancy asked.

Dirk smiled as he refilled Emily's glass with more lemonade. "Yes. That's why I approached you when I saw you all near the set. I figured out there was something fishy with that Gauguin as well. But I couldn't get to it in time. Then when I finally had a chance, you all beat me to it."

"So the Van Gogh is real?" Emily's eyes went wide.

"Yes, it really is _Vase with Oleanders_," he assured her with a smile.

"Oh my gosh." Emily looked as though she might faint.

"Head between the knees, Em," Nancy said dismissively, too excited about the case to worry about the possibility of Emily fainting, then turned to Dirk. "So, you think there is more art on the set right now?"

"Yes, I've seen three or four suspect pieces this month. My instructions are to leave the art in place and try to track it, but I haven't had any luck," he admitted. "I know it's all being laundered through this show somehow, but I can't investigate. My success as an actor means I can't sneak around. I'm attracting attention no matter where I go." Dirk reached for a strawberry. "That's why you're here. And I'll need you all on the set tomorrow. All four of you are going to help me carry out this plan."

"How on earth are we going to be on the set without arousing suspicion?" Nancy asked.

"I have it all worked out," Dirk explained. "By the way, where are Frank and Joe?"

"They went to drop off the Van Gogh to an agency contact," Emily told him.

Dirk Benson's eyes widened. "What? Are you serious?"

Emily nodded. "Why?"

"Because I just spoke with our agency contact right before you two got here. He's not scheduled to pick up the painting or meet with Frank and Joe." he said. "I'm afraid they're in serious danger."

Nancy exchanged a worried glance with Emily.

"Come on," he said. "Let's find out where they are." He stood, reached over to a drawer in his dressing table, grabbed his gun and put it in his pocket.

Opening his dressing room door he stepped out into the hall. "Stay close to me," he ordered as they headed into the lobby.

Nancy hurried to the front desk to check on what kind of car Joe and Frank had rented, with Dirk and Emily right behind her. As she was about to speak to the clerk, Dirk nudged her.

"Here they come." He pointed to the main door of the hotel.

Nancy breathed a sigh of relief. "And it looks like Joe still has the painting."

"Okay, well, it's probably best that they don't see me right now. I can't imagine Frank was too happy about the way I kissed you," Dirk said, as he led the two girls away from the desk and down a nearby hallway.

Nancy rolled her eyes. "That's an understatement. But don't worry about it. Again…I kissed you."

Dirk chuckled. "And you completely caught me off guard with that tactic. Good job, detective."

Nancy blushed. "Yeah, but I don't imagine I'll ever use it again. Not if I'm working with Frank, anyway."

Dirk paused in the hallway. "So, you two explain what's going on to Frank and Joe first. If everything's okay, and you still have the Van Gogh, just meet me on the set tomorrow morning. We can't do anything before then anyway. If the Van Gogh is gone, you know where to find me."

Nancy nodded as Dirk turned down a corridor and disappeared.

"That could not have been any weirder," Emily said, shaking her head as they headed to the bank of elevators.

"Yeah," Nancy agreed, as she pushed the call button. "Let's go back to our own rooms for now. Then maybe we can meet in your room for dinner. It might be better for us to tell them about Dirk together."

"For you to tell them about Dirk," Emily corrected. "I'm not the detective, remember. I'm only here for art consultation."

Nancy gave her a look as they got on the elevator. "Nice try. I'll tell you what, I'll tell them, you back me up."

Emily nodded. "They're still not going to like it."

_And that is putting it mildly_, Nancy thought, as she leaned her head against the back of the elevator compartment.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Thanks for the wonderful feedback, Kenna, Jackie, Virtute and Mrs. Frank! It is much appreciated! Just a short chapter today. Kind of a transition into what happens next. As always, thanks so much to everyone reading!

Chapter 10

Joe entered the elevator in the lobby five minutes later, hit the button for his floor and turned to his brother, who'd stepped in right behind him.

"I want you to come to my room with me."

"Why?"

"You were my back up. You explain to Emily why I look like this." He gestured to his swollen, red cheek and the gash on his forehead.

"You really don't look that bad," Frank said with a grin. "I've seen you beat up much worse."

"Thanks," Joe replied. "You're all heart."

They exited the elevator and proceeded to Joe's room.

"Hi, baby." He greeted Emily brightly, hoping she wouldn't notice his injuries.

She turned to look at him then dropped the book she was holding. "Joe!" she gasped, running over to him. "Oh my word, what happened?"

Damn. She noticed. "Oh, not much. A huge guy with a gun tried to get the Van Gogh from me, but I took care of him."

She put her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. As she pulled away, Joe winced slightly.

"You really are hurt," she said in an accusing tone.

He sat down on the bed and kicked off his shoes. "It's nothing. I'll be fine, I promise." If he kept on pretending, she was sure to buy it.

Emily turned around. "Frank?"

"He took a pretty good hit to the gut," Frank informed her.

Traitor, Joe thought as Emily eased him backwards onto the pillows.

"Joe did a great job taking him down though," Frank continued, sitting in a chair opposite the bed. "You would have been proud."

"Yeah, I had to do most of it myself, because it took my backup forever to get there." Joe glared at Frank as Emily started tugging the shirttails of Joe's button-down shirt loose from his jeans.

Frank chuckled. "I was there in less than five minutes."

"Felt more like fifteen."

Emily unbuttoned Joe's shirt and spread it open. "Oh, Joe," she said quietly. He watched as she surveyed the bruise already appearing on his stomach and tried to be reassuring.

"It's okay, baby. I've been beat up worse."

"That doesn't make me feel any better about it," she said, rising. She grabbed the ice bucket from the dresser and headed for the door.

"I'll wait here," Joe called out after her.

"I don't think she's in the mood for humor," Frank offered.

"Thanks," Joe replied sarcastically. "Listen Frank, I think you'd better take the painting back to your room. That guy definitely knows me now, and we might have a better chance of keeping the Van Gogh safe if you have it."

Frank nodded as Emily returned. She set the ice bucket on the nightstand and then headed into the bathroom without saying a word. Joe sighed as he heard the tap water running. She looked mad. If she was, it had better be at Frank.

Emily re-entered the room with a towel and two washcloths She sat on the edge of the bed and gently cleaned the gash on Joe's forehead. Then she filled a washcloth with ice and placed it on his cheek. "Hold that there." She turned around. "Frank, are you hurt?"

He smiled at her. "No Em, I'm fine."

Joe watched as she walked over to Frank, took his chin in her hand and tilting his head to the right and left, inspected him for bruises.

Joe stared at her from the bed. What the hell? She couldn't be mad at him. This was all Frank's fault. "Hello? Emily? Honey, your love muffin is over here."

Emily giggled and returned to his side, while Frank snorted derisively. "Love muffin?"

"Hey," Joe called out. "I'm not afraid to explore my sensitive side."

Frank was choking with laughter. "Really?"

"Yeah." Joe grimaced as Emily placed an ice-filled wash cloth on his bruised abdomen. "You should try it some time."

"Uh huh. I'll think about it." Frank stood up and tucked the beach bag containing the painting under his arm. "I'm going back to my room now. You look like you're in good hands," he gestured, as Emily brushed Joe's hair away from his face and kissed his cheek gently.

"Thank you, Frank," she called out after him.

"Yep. See you later."

OOOoooOOO

Frank entered his own hotel room and found Nancy seated at the desk where she appeared to be going over some case notes. She rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm glad you're back. I was worried about you."

He smiled and hugged her tightly. "I'm glad I'm back, too."

He watched as Nancy glanced down at the beach bag, her brow furrowing. "The Van Gogh?"

"Yeah, it was a set up," he said, sitting down wearily in a chair. "The guy who was posing as our contact jumped Joe. I had to rush in and save the day." He grinned at her and patted his leg.

"Frank Hardy to the rescue," she said with a smile as she eased herself onto his lap.

"Yeah, something like that," he murmured, while she leaned her head on his shoulder. _Mmmm, this was nice. _Frank closed his eyes and settled back, cuddling her into him. He could definitely get used to coming home to this every day.

"Is Joe okay?"

"He took a couple of good punches, but Emily's taking care of him."

Nancy nodded and caressed the side of his face gently with her hand. "Hungry?"

Frank opened his eyes as his stomach growled. "Actually, yeah. Do you want to go out and eat somewhere?"

"Well, Emily and I thought we'd get room service and have it delivered to her and Joe's room," Nancy said. "She and I ate already."

"You did?"

"Yeah, and I have something interesting to tell you, but let's get some food in you first." Nancy slid off his lap, walked over to the telephone and dialed room service. Frank leaned back in his chair, admiring the view of her long tanned legs in her skimpy white shorts.

"Hi, I'm calling for room four-twenty-eight," Nancy said. "Yes, we'd like to place an order for dinner. Sure. Okay, that sounds good. Two, please. Thank you."

He smiled at her as she hung up the phone. "What am I having?"

"It's a surprise," she said. "It'll be there in about forty minutes. Why don't you take a nice hot shower to relax, while you're waiting?"

He gave her a sly grin and looked her up and down with a twinkle in his eye. "I'd rather do something else."

He noticed the teasing look on her face as she walked back over to him. "Don't worry, there's plenty of time after dinner for 'something else.'"

"I'll hold you to it," Frank whispered as he rose from his chair and pulled her in for a kiss. "But a hot shower is probably something I need right now. Taking down bad guys in the tropics does make you break out in a sweat." He leaned in and kissed her again. "Hold that thought. I won't be long."

"And what thought would that be?" Nancy asked, raising her eyebrows.

Frank smiled as he gently brushed his lips over hers. "This one." He kissed her deeply and slowly, only stopping when he felt her melting into him. "We'll continue this later," he whispered.

OOO

Nancy sighed happily as Frank disappeared into the bathroom, then turned to the desk as the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hey Nance, how are things in paradise?" Bess Marvin's chirpy voice echoed over the line.

"Hi, Bess." Nancy sat down in the chair. "Things are great here. How's River Heights?"

"Cold, snowy, windy, crappy...the usual," Bess said. The tone of her voice changed to a teasing one. "How's Frank?"

"He's still here," Nancy said coyly.

"And how's Joe?"

"He's still in love."

"Not the answer I wanted, Nance."

At that moment, Frank leaned out of the bathroom door and yelled to Nancy, "Hey honey, can you hand me my razor? I left it in my suitcase."

Nancy cringed. "Yeah, sure. Hang on." She set the phone down, ignoring the fact that Bess was calling her name repeatedly. She handed Frank the razor as he kissed her and said, "Thanks, baby." Nancy smiled weakly as she picked up the phone.

"I'm back."

"'Honey'? 'Thanks, baby?'" Bess repeated. "Spill it, Nancy."

"Ummm..."

"I knew it! I knew it!" Bess exclaimed. "You and Frank are together, aren't you? I knew it would happen!"

"I'm sorry, Bess, I've really got to go right now. We have to work on the case. I'll call you later." Nancy hung up the phone, despite the protests coming over the line from her best friend. Bess was going to want to pump her for details on every single thing Frank had said and done over the past couple of days. She wasn't up to it at the moment. Plus, the relationship was still so new, she almost felt like she might jinx it if she talked about it.

Frank stepped out of the bathroom five minutes later, dressed in khaki shorts and a navy polo shirt. "Who was on the phone?"

"Bess," Nancy said with a sigh.

"Oh." Frank paused as he gathered up his keys and the Van Gogh. "She heard me."

Nancy smiled. "Yes, she did, and now I'll never hear the end of it."

"What did you tell her?"

"Nothing, I hung up." Nancy laughed. "It would take forever to go over our relationship in the detail she's going to demand, and we need to get up to Joe and Emily's before your food does."

Frank grinned. "She'll be calling back, you know. For all the juicy parts."

"I know." Nancy gave him a gentle shove towards the door. "So let's get out of here."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews, Kenna, Mrs. Frank, Jackie, Leya and Virtute! You put a smile on my face. A small note for this chapter...there really is an art fraud division in the FBI. I think that would be a very cool job to have...not that I'd be any good at it, however. LOL Thanks to all who are reading! I appreciate it!

Chapter 11

"How's Joe?" Nancy asked as soon as Emily opened the door to her hotel room.

"Cranky," Emily replied.

"I heard that," Joe's voice sounded from around the corner. "And I am not cranky."

"Are too," Emily insisted, sticking her tongue out at him as Nancy and Frank reached the main part of the hotel room.

"I'm hungry," Joe clarified, still lying on the bed with the icepack resting on his bruised stomach.

"Well, dinner should be here in about five minutes," Nancy informed him as she surveyed the stack of pillows behind his head. "How are you feeling?" Besides spoiled. Because Emily was clearly spoiling him.

"Fine," Joe said. "Well, a little frustrated, maybe. We really don't seem to be getting anywhere with this case."

"Actually, that isn't entirely true," Nancy responded, her mind instantly switching back to their assignment.

"What do you mean?" Joe asked.

"Emily and I will tell you all about it...while you eat."

Joe looked over at his girlfriend. "What does she mean by that?"

"You'll find out." Emily sounded mysterious as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

A knock was heard on the door, and Nancy turned to Frank. "There's your dinner."

Nancy waited patiently while Frank answered the door, tipped the waiter, and rolled the cart the rest of the way into the room.

"Smells delicious," he announced as he removed the metal plate covers. "You want some, Joe?"

Joe gave Frank a look that made his brother chuckle. "Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question." He handed Joe a plate of Jamaican chicken with rice and green beans.

"I don't know how I'm going to do this," Joe stated, as he looked from his precariously perched ice bags to his plate.

Emily laughed. "Here, I'll help you." She sat down next to him, took the plate and fed him a forkful of rice. "Better?"

Joe smiled. "Mmmm hmmm."

Nancy didn't miss Frank rolling his eyes at his brother before he turned to her and took a bite of his chicken. "So, are you going to fill us in?" he asked.

She exchanged a glance with Emily then took Dirk's note out of the pocket of her white shorts. "Dirk Benson handed me this while we were on the set today." Nancy held it out and Frank reached for it.

She watched Frank quickly scan the small piece of paper then snort in disgust. "What a clown. Did he really think this would work?"

"Let me see it, Frank." Joe held out his hand, and Frank passed the note to him. Nancy braced herself for Joe's reaction. She wasn't disappointed.

"What! He wanted you both to come to his dressing room? That son of a...I'm going to kick his ass." Joe attempted to lean forward, then winced in pain.

"Joe!" Emily set down the dinner plate and leaned him back on the pillows. "You're not going anywhere."

"I think I'm going to have a talk with him," Frank said firmly. "This is going a little too far."

_And now comes the fun part, _Nancy thought as she cleared her throat. "We went."

"Excuse me?" Frank turned to her.

"Emily and I," Nancy gestured. "We went to his dressing room." _Three-two-one–_

"You what?" Joe sat up fully, even though Nancy could tell by the look on his face that he was in pain.

_Kaboom. _Nancy sighed.

Joe turned to Emily. "Please tell me she's joking."

Emily fiddled with the edge of the comforter, then said softly, "We went to Dirk's dressing room."

"Why?" Frank asked.

"Because I felt like he wanted to tell us something," Nancy explained.

Frank gave her a look. "I know what he wanted to tell you."

"No, Frank. It wasn't like that at all," she protested.

Joe crossed his arms in front of him and stared hard at Emily. "You really went to his dressing room?"

"Joe," Emily began then faltered. "Nancy?"

"I know you two are going to have a hard time believing this," Nancy said, "But Dirk Benson is an agent with the FBI Art Fraud division."

Frank burst out laughing. "Is that the line he used on you? 'I'm with the FBI?'"

"Frank, it's true. He has ID. And I called my dad and had him check it out," Nancy said.

"I'm out there getting my butt kicked, and you're going to this guy's dressing room to listen to him feed you crap and put the moves on you?" Joe asked Emily.

Nancy flinched at the accusing tone in Joe's voice. He was definitely treading on thin ice.

"Joe, that's not what happened," Emily said softly. "He didn't try anything. He's not at all like we thought he was."

"You're defending him?" Joe's voice rose. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it was to go there? Or how badly this could have turned out? I don't care who he said he was…that doesn't mean he couldn't have hurt you. Or worse."

"Would you two just please listen for a moment," Nancy ordered, her eyes moving from Frank, who was sitting with his arms crossed in front of him and a scowl on his face, to Joe, who appeared to be barely keeping a lid on his anger. That famous Joe Hardy temper. She glanced at Emily who's expression was less than amused. And this girl was going to make him finally learn to control it.

"We're listening," Frank said.

"Okay." Nancy took a deep breath and explained everything that had happened in Dirk's dressing room and what he told them. She concluded with, "And he wants us all on the set tomorrow, so we can actually try to _solve_ this case."

Frank stared at her intently for a moment. "Okay, Nancy. I know you're a great detective. But just for my own peace of mind, I'm going to need to call my own source to check this out."

"I understand, Frank," she said and grinned. "I'd do the same thing."

He smiled at her, then stood and put a call through to Fenton.

Emily stood up. "Excuse me for a minute." She walked past Frank and Nancy, and entered the bathroom without even glancing at Joe.

"Emily!" Joe called after her.

"You hurt her feelings, Joe," Nancy chastised. "You were pretty harsh."

Joe hung his head. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I was worried about her."

Frank replaced the receiver on the phone and sat back in his chair. "Dad's checking into it." He turned to Nancy. "What did Emily mean when she said, 'He's not at all like we thought he was?'"

"He's not a womanizer, not a macho jerk," Nancy said. "He was very nice. The perfect gentleman, actually. In fact, he apologized for pretending to come on to Emily and me." She looked up at Frank. "And for the kiss."

Joe sighed deeply. "Why do I always let my emotions get the best of me?"

"That's something I've wanted to know for years, bro," Frank teased.

"Well, it stops right now." Joe slid to the edge of the bed and carefully stood up.

"You okay?" Frank asked, sounding worried.

"I'm fine," he insisted, walking slowly away from the bed toward the bathroom. As he knocked on the bathroom door and entered, the phone rang.

Frank rose to answer it. "Yeah? Hi, Dad. What? Are you serious?" He looked at Nancy. "For how long? Okay. No, that's great. Thanks. I'll talk to you later."

He hung up, turned to Nancy and smiled. "Great instincts, Detective Drew. He's legit."

_Thank goodness._ Nancy stood up and walked over to him. "I don't want to say 'I told you so', but..."

Frank silenced her with a long kiss. When they parted, he stared into her eyes, "What were you going to say?" he asked with a devilish grin.

"I forgot." Nancy pulled him down to her again, kissing him deeply.

OOOoooOOO

Joe eased into the bathroom and saw Emily standing by the sink. She looked at him sharply as he leaned heavily against the door, closing it behind him.

"You shouldn't be out of bed with your ribs hurting."

He noticed her red rimmed eyes, and felt a pang in his heart. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I screwed up."

Emily sniffled, but didn't move. "Yes, you did, Joe. You act like you don't trust me. Like you think I went to Dirk's dressing room to cheat on you or something. Like I would throw our whole relationship out the window for some romp in the hay with an actor I only met yesterday."

He watched as tears sprang to her eyes and she quickly turned her head away from him. _And I just won the "Jackass of the Year" award…again._

"Emily, I don't think that at all." Joe tried to move forward, but the pain in his ribs stopped him. He put his hand over his stomach and continued. "Honey, I wasn't thinking when I said those things. I was jealous and worried sick. I was a jerk."

He looked at Emily, who had her head bent down. "Please, baby. You've got to know I trust you." He grinned wryly. "It's all the other men out there I don't trust, because I know what they're thinking when they look at you." He stepped over to her, ignoring the pain in his side.

"So you're always going to assume the worst because some guy is leering at me?" she asked, a tear trickling down her cheek. "You're going to think because some jerk makes a crass comment about how I look that I'm going to go for it? That I would really want to be with somebody who talked to me like that? Who looked at me like that?"

He cringed inwardly. _Three for three, Joe. _He'd now struck out. "No, honey." Joe ran his hand up and down her arm. "I only meant–"

"Because that's sure what it sounds like you're saying." Her tears seemed unstoppable now. "Joe, I started dating you because you were so nice to me. You didn't treat me like a prize you'd just won. You were sweet and respectful. I felt like you cared about the real me. That it wasn't all about what I looked like."

"Oh, Em." His heart broke as he listened to her. He tried to put his arms around her, but she sidestepped his embrace.

"Joe?" She lifted her head and looked into his eyes.

He met her gaze, his arms aching to hold her as he watched the tears trickle down her cheeks. "I'm listening."

"Joe, I love you so much. I only want to be with you. I'm not interested in any other guys. I don't even see them." She hung her head and sobbed quietly.

Joe reached out for her, and pulled her into him tightly, ignoring the stabbing pain in his side. He bent his head down over hers, as tears escaped his own eyes, and held her silently for a moment. Lifting her head up, he brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead gently.

"Emily," he said quietly. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean one thing I said. I never want to hurt you, sweetheart." He paused for a moment, biting his lip to keep his emotions under control. "I love you so much it scares me sometimes. I'm so afraid you're going to wake up one day and realize how much better you can do than me." He looked down into her green eyes, still brimming with unshed tears, and smiled. "Will you forgive me? Please?"

For an answer, she reached one hand up around his neck and pulled him toward her. She kissed him so softly and tenderly that Joe felt tears in his eyes again. She slid her other arm around his waist, holding him more closely. As Joe deepened the kiss, he felt Emily's body completely surrender into his. He groaned low in his throat and kissed her even more passionately. After a minute, Emily broke away.

"Joe?"

"Mmm?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.

"We're making out in a bathroom."

He stopped, looked down at her and grinned. "Seems kind of silly when we have that nice big bed out there."

"And Nancy and Frank," she reminded him.

"I'll get rid of them." He dropped his lips onto her neck again.

"And a case to solve."

"It'll wait." Joe drew her closer, and let his kisses trail over to the hollow of her throat.

Emily giggled again. "And you're supposed to be resting."

He sighed resignedly. "Okay, okay, you win. For now." He opened the bathroom door and he and Emily walked into the main part of the hotel room hand in hand. He stopped when he saw Frank and Nancy in a tight embrace. "See? We didn't have to come out here. We're interrupting them."

"It's all right, Joe." Frank looked at Emily. "Everything okay?"

"Yes." Emily urged Joe over to the bed with a happy smile. She tucked him in and replaced the ice bag on his ribs. Joe reached for her hand and held it in his, still slightly overwhelmed by his feelings for her. This was all new territory for him and he was determined not to screw things up again.

"Good, then let's get back to the case," Nancy said, stepping away from Frank.

"Joe?" Frank spoke up. "Dad confirmed that Dirk is legit."

Joe shook his head, as Emily fed him the last bit of his chicken dinner. "Then that guy is the best undercover Fed I've ever seen. He sure had me fooled."

"Yeah," Frank agreed. "He's good."

"Well then, I guess we meet with him on the set tomorrow and see what we can learn," Nancy said.

Frank nodded and glanced at his brother. "Will you be up for it?"

"Yeah, I don't think my rib is broken, just sore." He leaned back against his pillows. "I'll be fine after a good night's sleep."

"Then see that you actually get some sleep, bro," Frank teased, looking at Joe, then pointedly at Emily.

"Ah, don't worry," Joe waved his hand in the air. "I can hardly even move."

"If I only thought that would slow you down," Frank said with a grin, as he took Nancy's hand and picked up the Van Gogh.

"I'll make him behave, Frank," Emily said smiling, as she walked them to the door.

Joe grinned wickedly at her as she stepped back into the main part of their hotel room. "Now come over here and make me feel better," he growled, holding out his arms.

OOOoooOOO

Frank took his polo shirt off over his head, deposited it in the dirty laundry bag, then smoothed down his hair. He turned to Nancy who was checking phone messages. "Who called?"

"Bess," Nancy stated. "Six times." She shook her head as Frank laughed and pulled her against his bare chest for a hug. "She's not going to stop until I call her back."

"Let her wait for awhile," he murmured, leaning down for a kiss. Because he had waited all day for this moment and he didn't want to stop now.

"Hold that thought while I get changed," Nancy told him. She grabbed one of Frank's t-shirts and stepped into the bathroom area.

Well, unless he was stopping for her to look even more sexy then she already did_. _He walked over to the bed and turned down the covers. "So, do you have any theories as to who's behind this art theft mess?"

"Well, obviously someone on the show knows something." She reappeared in Frank's t-shirt, and dropped her laundry into a plastic bag. "The question is who?"

"Yeah, and I'm guessing that with Dirk being the lead actor on this thing, he doesn't have as much time for investigating as he would like," he began, trying hard to keep his mind focused on the conversation and not the fact that his t-shirt was barely covering her bottom.

The phone on the bedside table began ringing.

"Bess," Nancy told him.

Frank held up his hand. "Let me."

"Frank," she warned.

He grinned and lifted up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Um, Frank?" asked the female voice on the other end.

"Yeah. Hey, Bess, how's it going?"

"Great. Is Nancy there?"

"She's getting changed for bed right now." Frank grinned at Nancy, who sighed, and stood staring at him with her hands on her hips.

"Oh," Bess replied. "So, Frank, how are things? With you and Nancy I mean?"

"Terrific. Couldn't be better."

"Really? So, you two are a couple now...in real life, I mean?"

"Yep, finally. Bet you thought we'd never do it."

"I was beginning to have my doubts."

"Well, doubt no longer, Miss Marvin. Nancy and I are deliriously happy together."

"That's wonderful." Bess sighed. "And, you're in Jamaica. How romantic." She seemed to snap out of her reverie. "But really, I am going to need to speak with Nancy."

"I know. Can it wait until tomorrow?" Frank asked. "Because, see right now, Nancy and I are going to spend a very romantic evening together in our tropical paradise...in bed."

"Uhhh... What?" Bess sounded startled.

"She'll get back to you in the morning. I promise. Have a good night." Frank hung up the phone and turned to Nancy, who was glaring at him.

"You are in big trouble, Mister," she said. "You know what she's thinking now, don't you?"

Frank chuckled. "I'm just having a little fun with her."

Nancy walked over to him and slapped his arm. "You are bad, Frank Hardy. How come I've never seen this side of you before?"

He slipped his arms around her waist. "Oh, I guess it just took a certain, spunky, girl detective to bring it out in me."

"Spunky?" she exclaimed. "Did you just call me 'spunky?'"

"No, no, I meant sexy. A very sexy girl detective." He bent down and kissed her playfully. Nancy reached up, and pushed him down on the bed, then lay on top of him, kissing him deeply. "A very, very sexy girl detective," Frank murmured low, before kissing her again passionately.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews Mrs. Frank, Jackie and Virtute! Fun to read, as always! Back to the mystery and actual investigating in this chapter. Thanks to everyone reading. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 12

The next morning, Nancy led Frank down a hallway near the lobby to meet Joe and Emily before heading off towards the set of _The Resort_. She felt Frank had been anxious about Joe's injuries and was eager to get an update from him. She watched him hurry over to his brother and give him an affectionate cuff on the shoulder.

"Hey, how are you feeling this morning?"

"Pretty good," Joe admitted.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Enough," Joe replied with a grin.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Behave."

"Here comes Dirk," Nancy announced, eager to change the subject, before it turned to the amount of sleep Frank had gotten last night.

"Hey guys." Dirk greeted them warmly, then glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching and ushered them quickly into an empty conference room.

He pulled out his ID as he turned to the brothers. "Frank? Joe? Nice to meet you," he said, shaking their hands and showing them his badge.

"Yeah, you too," Joe replied.

"I'm looking forward to working with you both," Dirk said.

"Likewise," Frank replied. "You've definitely got one of the best covers I've ever seen."

"Yeah, art theft is a lot different than most other crime. The covers definitely tend to be more interesting, to say the least," Dirk said with a grin.

"I guess the people who are stealing art aren't the same ones knocking off convenience stores," Joe noted.

"Not quite," Dirk agreed, then clapped his hands together. "So…if you're all ready, I have your assignments for the morning." He turned to Emily. "I want you to be an extra. I need you to look out for any kind of prop you think is suspicious. I have my ideas, but I can't really examine any of the set pieces, since I'm supposed to be acting." He looked at Nancy. "I want you to have a speaking part."

"What?" Nancy was horrified. "I can't act."

"Sure you can, you're a detective, aren't you?" Dirk smiled and handed her a script. "You only have a couple of lines. But I want you watch the lead female actress. Something's funny with her."

He looked toward Frank and Joe. "You two are crew guys." He handed them passes to the set. "I need you to have access to the prop room, and anything and anyone else behind the scenes we might need to check out."

They nodded.

"All right, are we ready then?" Dirk smiled as he looked to Nancy and Emily. "I'm going to have to revert back to my jackass personality for awhile. So, whatever I may say to you, I apologize for in advance."

"Likewise," Emily countered with a grin.

Dirk chuckled. "Okay, I'll catch you all afterwards and we can compare notes. Don't wait for me, I'll come up to your room later on," he said, gesturing to Frank and Nancy as he stepped out of the conference room.

"Well, here goes nothing," Nancy said, looking dubiously at her script.

"You'll be fabulous," Frank assured her. "Promise you won't leave me for a career in Hollywood."

"Oh, Hardy," Nancy said, rolling her eyes and then smiling at him. "Let's go, Em."

Emily gave Joe a little backwards wave, then caught up to Nancy as she entered the hallway. "Yeah, we'd better hurry. You don't want to keep your Golden Globe waiting."

"You, too?" Nancy asked in mock indignation. "You're starting to sound like Joe."

"I guess that's what happens when you 'marry' him," Emily said. "I'm guessing you'll start acting like Frank soon enough."

Nancy stopped short. "Don't say that. I couldn't ever be that responsible. I'd die of boredom." She started walking again. "My mission is to loosen Frank up. Get him to unwind a little bit."

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?"

Nancy gave her a sly look. "Maybe we'll have to go shopping again later. Have another look at that bustier."

Emily's jaw dropped, then she started laughing. "You know…I think that's a fabulous idea. Frank Hardy could really use a woman wearing a black bustier in his life."

OOO

Joe turned to Frank back in the conference room. "So I guess we get to do the grunt work?"

"It's all in the way you look at it, bro." Frank put his arm around Joe's shoulder. "We have the opportunity to investigate wherever we want to on this set now," he said, holding up the ID pass now hanging around his neck.

Joe grinned. "Then what are we waiting for?"

OOOoooOOO

Nancy stood in a dressing room on the set, surveying the costumes she and Emily were supposed to wear for their upcoming scene. No way. No way in a million years was she putting this on and appearing in public. Much less on television. She turned to Emily who was holding up her costume, a look of disbelief on her face.

"French maid outfits!" Emily exclaimed in a horrified tone. "Are they joking?"

Nancy picked up a pair of fishnet tights. "This is so not me."

Emily laughed. "What self-respecting maid walks around dressed like this? I mean, seriously, you're going to clean toilets in this getup?"

Nancy snorted. "There is no way I can do this."

She sighed heavily as she examined the high-heeled pumps that went with her outfit while Emily pulled off her sundress and slipped her costume over her head.

"Oh my gosh!" Emily exclaimed, surveying the short skirt and low-cut top. "I look like..." She paused and turned around surveying the view from behind in the large mirror hanging over the make-up table. "Well, you know what I look like."

Nancy was struggling to get her tights on. "This is what happens when your show is scheduled opposite _Charlie's Angels_," she grunted.

The door to the dressing room flew open, and a heavily made-up woman with hair the color of Lucille Ball's, stepped in. "Ready for your hair and make-up, girls?" She walked over to where they were standing and looked critically at Nancy and Emily. "You fill out the top of that dress very nicely," she told Emily. Turning to Nancy, she said, "We'll get you some enhancements for yours, sweetie."

Nancy looked at Emily, her eyes widening. "This is not happening," she muttered, plopping herself resignedly in the make-up chair.

OOOoooOOO

Frank strolled over to the prop room, followed by Joe, where they were greeted by a large, rather sweaty guy who gestured toward the back of the room. "They want that sofa," he called out, as he walked past them toting a large dining room chair.

"Did he say 'sofa?'" Joe asked.

"I'm afraid so." Frank looked to the back of the prop room. "After you."

They traipsed to the last aisle of the prop room where they saw the sofa waiting for them, along with a dark-haired man holding a clipboard.

"Are you the new guys?" he asked, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Yeah, that'd be us," Joe acknowledged.

"Did you want us to get this?" Frank gestured to the couch.

"Um, no, not yet. I have some smaller items I need catalogued at the moment." He sighed. "Some jerk has really messed things up in here. We're missing a painting, and who knows what else."

He glanced up from his clipboard. "Here. You guys take this, go down that aisle, and try to locate the items listed on it. If you can't find something, circle it."

"It'll be our pleasure," Frank said, taking the clipboard.

"Yeah, whatever. Come find me when you're done."

"Are you the prop master?" Joe asked.

"No, I'm Ed, his assistant. Craig is the prop master, and he's gonna have my ass if any more of this stuff goes missing." He stomped off, yelling an order to another crew member walking through the door. "Fred, the dining room table. Today, please."

Frank followed his brother down an aisle in the converted exhibit hall, and scanned the list in his hands. "This could be exactly what we're looking for."

"Yeah, I know," Joe agreed. "The other items that are missing must be art that's been smuggled out."

Frank nodded. "So maybe that means Ed isn't in on it if he doesn't know where the items have gone."

"Maybe. Or maybe it's just a cover and he's behind it," Joe theorized.

"We've got a lot to try and figure out here." Frank studied at the items on the shelf in front of him.

"What do we do if we find something that might be a smuggled art?" Joe asked.

Frank thought for a moment. "Let's conveniently 'misplace' it, then have Emily or Dirk come check it out later."

"Sounds good." Joe clapped his hands together. "Let's get started."

OOOoooOOO

Nancy exited the dressing room, followed by Emily, and headed toward the set of _The Resort_. Emily was struggling in vain to raise the neckline of her dress, while Nancy was teetering on her ridiculously high heels.

"Tell me again why you're a detective, Nancy?" Emily asked, laughing at their predicament.

"Probably for the same reason you're dating one. It just happened." She stopped short. "I have to take these off," she said, slipping the shoes from her feet. She looked up at Emily and burst out laughing. "You look like you're ready to pop out of a cake."

"I'm ready to pop out of something, that's for sure," she said, giving her top another tug. She giggled at Nancy. "Oh my gosh, Nance. That makeup makes you look like you're going to the set of _Whatever Happened to Baby Jane_?"

"Don't remind me." Nancy made a face. "If my friends in River Heights ever saw me looking like this...well, let's just say I'd never live it down."

"Then you'd better hope they don't watch _The Resort_," Emily said with a smirk.

"Oh geez, it's one of Bess's favorite shows. Dirk Benson and all." She shook her head. "Hopefully she won't recognize me."

They both looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Let's get this nightmare over with," Nancy said, walking onto the set.

OOOoooOOO

"Two silver candle sticks?" Frank called out.

"Check," Joe said, holding them up.

"One china vase?"

"Got it," Joe responded.

Frank made a check mark on the list.

"One small painting on an easel?"

Joe searched the shelf. "I'm not seeing it. Wait a minute." He pulled something out from behind a cardboard box. "Is this it?"

"I don't know, it's fairly small," Frank set the clipboard down and took it from Joe. "It's a Gauguin." He looked up. "You don't suppose...?"

"Only one way to find out," Joe answered with a toothy grin. He grabbed a knife from a set of silverware resting on the shelf. "Shall we?"

Frank handed him the painting. "Careful, Joe," he instructed, as Joe pulled the frame away from the canvas. As before, the overlaying Gauguin was merely covering another painting.

"What is that?" Frank wanted to know.

Joe looked at him. "It says 'Vincent,'" he told him, pointing to the signature at the bottom of the painting.

"Another one?" Frank was incredulous.

Joe shook his head. "How would I know?" He searched around. "We need a place to stash this until we can get a hold of Dirk or Em."

"Yeah," Frank said as he looked behind him. "We also need something to cover it. Do you see anything?"

"Um, maybe." Joe began rummaging through some of the items on the shelf. "How about these?" He held up a pile of brocade cloth napkins.

"I guess they're as good as anything," Frank said, taking the napkins from Joe and quickly wrapping them around the painting.

"Frank, I'm not sure that's the right attitude to take with multi-million dollar paintings."

Just as they finished securing the napkins around the piece of art with a long corded drapery tassel, they heard the door to the prop room open.

"Someone's coming," Joe hissed. He snatched the painting from Frank and hurriedly stashed it into a large cardboard box on the shelf, covering it with a tablecloth just as Ed approached them.

"How's it going?"

"It's going," Joe said with a grin.

"Good. Oh, I need that box on the set right now." He gestured to the carton with the Van Gogh in it, leaned over toward the shelf, picked it up, and started walking down the aisle.

Frank and Joe exchanged nervous glances as he disappeared down the main walkway of the prop room and out the door toward the set.

"What now?" Joe demanded.

"We go get it back," Frank said firmly.

OOOoooOOO

Nancy was standing on the "living room" set for _The Resort_ going over her four lines and trying not to look as self-conscious as she felt. Dirk Benson walked by her and said in a low voice. "The older lady…she's the one I want you to watch."

Nancy nodded, looking over to the edge of the set, where a woman, probably in her fifties, she guessed, was fussing with her jewelry. Nancy studied her for a moment, taking note of her fastidious appearance, carefully manicured nails and perfectly applied make-up. _Oh, I recognize her. She's acted in lots of things. _The woman's name escaped her though, as she continued to observe her surreptitiously.

"Okay, let's mark this scene," said a man in a baseball cap, whom Nancy assumed to be the director.

"Ready, Miss Randolph?" he asked the older woman.

She nodded, pasting a bright smile on her face.

_Penelope Randolph_, Nancy thought. _I wonder why Dirk wants me to keep an eye on her?_

"Benson, you ready?" the director called out.

"Yep," Dirk said, stepping onto the set, and giving Nancy what she thought was a reassuring wink.

"Okay, start when you're comfortable, I just want to get a read on the lights."

OOO

Dirk Benson stepped onto the stage and began reciting his lines, as Frank and Joe appeared on the edge of the set, looking for the box with the Van Gogh.

"You see it?" Frank asked.

"No," Joe told him, looking around. He hit Frank's arm with the back of his hand as an actress stepped onto the set. "Is that..._Nancy_?"

Frank followed Joe's gaze and spotted his girlfriend entering the scene in her French maid costume. His jaw dropped and he couldn't stop staring as Nancy walked up to Penelope Randolph, carrying a tea service.

"It is," Joe said, looking at him sideways with a grin. "Frank?"

Frank was mesmerized as he watched her recite her lines perfectly, then exit the scene gracefully on high heels that looked impossibly difficult to walk on. "Wow," he said softly.

"Frank, the box. It's on the dining room table," Joe gestured, pointing to the set next to the one they were standing on.

"What?" Frank turned to Joe. "Oh," he said, changing his focus. "Good. Let's try to get over there and snag it."

OOOoooOOO

Nancy exited the set and moved over to where Emily was watching and waiting behind a false wall.

"That was amazing, Nancy," Emily congratulated her.

Nancy grinned ruefully. "It certainly was the cheesiest thing I've ever done."

Emily gave her an impish grin. "Well, judging by the look on your boyfriend's face, I don't think he thought it was cheesy."

Nancy looked startled as she spotted Frank and Joe standing on the opposite side of the set. "Oh, no! You're kidding me." She turned to Emily. "Tell me he really didn't see me dressed like this."

"'Fraid so," Emily said with a grin. "And he appeared to be enjoying it."

"But it's not me. And this..." She grabbed the top of her dress. "This is false advertising."

Emily choked back the laughter. "I think it was the overall effect he appreciated. Not any one specific part of the outfit."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Well, it's just one humiliation on top of another today." She turned to Emily and gave her a sly grin. "And what are you doing hiding back here anyway? I think you need to get out there and give Joe an eyeful of this costume, too."

"Joe needs to see me in this like he needs a hole in his head," Emily told her firmly. "This dress is barely staying on. And besides," Emily pointed in the direction of the set, "that loser was hitting on me a little while ago, and I'm trying to stay out of groping range."

"Him?" Nancy asked, pointing to a young, handsome blond, lounging on a sofa. "He plays Dirk's brother on the show, right?"

Emily nodded.

"Bess thinks he's really hot," Nancy told her.

"Well, she can have him," Emily replied. "He may be really good looking, but he's a jerk," she finished with a scowl. "And, unlike Dirk, I don't think he's faking."

Dirk Benson sidled up behind the two girls. "Great job, Nancy."

"Thanks, but I may never forgive you for this."

He laughed. "Sorry about the costumes, ladies. When I read the script and saw they were casting for maids, I thought they actually meant maids...not this." He gestured to their outfits. "I think this is somebody's sick idea of how to boost our ratings."

"Do they need boosting that much?" Nancy asked.

Dirk's face was grim. "Well, until I can do my hair like Farrah's and bounce across the set when I walk...yes. _Charlie's Angels_ is killing us."

Nancy smiled and turned to Emily. "Make sure you put a little bounce in your...um...walk when you're out there."

Emily rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well listen, Em, when you're dusting the set in your next scene, pay attention to the bookshelves," Dirk instructed. "I can never get close enough, but there are a few items over there I'd like to get a better look at."

She nodded. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will." He winked at them both then walked back on the set.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Thanks so much for taking time to leave feedback, Leya, Mrs. Frank, Kenna, Virtute and Jackie! It's very much appreciated! And as always, thanks to those who are reading!

Chapter 13

Frank strolled over to the dining room set of _The Resort, _spotting the cardboard box the assistant prop master had taken from him, sitting just out of reach on a table.

"Now what?" Joe wanted to know, coming up behind him. "Do we just run over and grab it?"

Frank shook his head. "No, that would call too much attention to us." He spied Dirk walking around from the back of the living room set. "Hang on, I've got an idea." He moved toward him, caught his eye, then motioned subtly toward the box. Dirk nodded, almost imperceptibly, as he strode over to the table.

"Unbelievable!" Dirk shouted. "How many times have I said that I don't want crap lying around on these sets? I'm trying to stay in character, and this does not help!" He grabbed the box and tossed it to Frank. "Get this out of here!"

"Yes sir," Frank mumbled, turning around and giving Joe a victory glance as they hustled back to the prop room.

When they made it inside the door, they rushed to the back, took out the Van Gogh, and replaced the box on the prop room shelf.

"Whew, that was close," Frank said with a sigh.

"Yeah, and I've got to hand it to Benson," Joe acknowledged. "He's a fast thinker."

The door to the prop room swung open, and Frank quickly stashed the Van Gogh canvas behind a pile of rolled-up rugs on the floor. Ed stormed down the aisle and stopped in front of Frank and Joe.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Um," Frank hesitated.

"I thought I brought that box out to the set, and then when I go to find it, it's not there, and Fred said you took it."

"Well, that actor, um, Dirk? He had a fit and threw it at us," Joe explained. "Said he didn't want crap lying around the set ruining his motivation, or something like that."

Ed groaned. "I am so sick of dealing with that ego-maniac." He grabbed the box roughly from the shelf. "Never mind, I'll take care of Mr. Dirk Benson. Just finish your list."

Frank and Joe went back to checking off prop items, looking for anything that remotely resembled fine art, when the prop room door swung open again and two crew guys they had never seen before, came in talking and laughing.

"Yeah, man she is totally hot," the one guy said. "I've never seen her before today, have you?"

"No way, I would have remembered," the other one said emphatically. "Did you see the body on her? Whew!"

"Yeah, on both of them. And hey, what's wrong with that? One brunette, one strawberry-blonde...sounds good to me."

Joe and Frank exchanged glances.

"Yeah, well good luck gettin' some of that," the first man said. "Jason Chandler's already sayin' the brunette is his."

The second man snorted. "That pretty-boy actor?" He shook his head. "No, what she needs is a real man. Jason can't handle a body like that. She needs someone who can give it to her good."

Frank noticed that Joe's fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, and his jaw began twitching. He grabbed his brother's arms. "No, Joe. You're going to blow our cover."

"Frank," Joe warned. "So help me..."

"Come on, let's just get out of here," Frank told him.

They stepped out into the main aisle and startled the two men standing there. "Hey, we didn't know anyone was back here."

"Yeah, we're finishing up some stuff for Ed. Gotta go now, though," Frank told them, ushering Joe past the guys and out the door as quickly as possible.

OOOoooOOO

Emily was standing on the set pretending to dust items on the bookshelf while actors all around her filmed their scene. She carefully took a small statue of a ballet dancer and examined it closely while she dusted it.

As Dirk Benson turned away from the femme fatal he was acting opposite, Emily held the statue in such a way that he got a good look at it before she replaced it on the shelf. She moved along, continuing to dust other items, until the director called, "Cut!"

Jason Chandler, the blond playing Dirk's brother, approached Emily.

"Hey baby, did you give any more thought to my invitation?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Don't call me that," she bristled.

Jason shrugged. "So, what do you say?"

"Jason," Emily said with a sigh. "I already told you, I'm married."

He grinned slyly at her. "And I have a girlfriend. So what?"

She gave him a hard stare. "Then you've just told me absolutely everything I need to know about you." She put down her feather duster, stepped off the set, and almost ran right into Joe. She looked at him, and he followed her down the hall. Emily walked into the dressing room she used earlier in the day, and after a moment, Joe knocked softly on the door. She opened it and let him in.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Emily could tell that Joe was trying very hard to control his temper. His lips were drawn into a tight line and his body was rigid with tension. She also knew that the only reason he hadn't flattened Jason just now was because of the "discussion" she'd had with him yesterday over his reaction to her meeting with Dirk. She smiled inwardly, knowing how difficult this was for Joe and how hard he was trying to please her.

"Oh, you mean all that with Jason Chandler? Yeah, I'm fine," Emily assured him. She went over to the dressing table, and took the pins out of her hair that had been holding together the elaborate up-do the stylist created for her.

"Do you want me to take care of him?"

"No, that will mess up our cover."

"Actually I think it would be pretty realistic. What husband isn't going to deck a jackass for hitting on his wife?"

"You know what I mean. It'll call unnecessary attention to you. Besides, I can handle it," Emily said as she slipped off her high heels, then strolled over to him. "I promise." She wrapped her arms around him and gently kissed his neck. She immediately felt the tension drain from his body.

Joe grinned at her as he surveyed her costume. "Do you get to keep this?" he asked in a hopeful tone, rubbing the silky fabric of her sleeve between his thumb and index finger.

She burst into giggles. "Oh Joe, you're impossible." She ruffled his hair, as he slid his arms around her waist. "The costume has to stay here."

"Too bad," he murmured as he pulled her in for a kiss.

Emily sighed softly against his lips. She loved kissing Joe. He started out slow and tender, tasting her gently until she whimpered in frustration. Then the kiss deepened into a hot and intense connection that left her weak in the knees and completely molded to his body. He buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer as his kiss got more demanding and possessive. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, enjoying the play of his muscles underneath his shirt as his hand slid down her French maid's outfit and cupped her bottom. A rough groan rumbled deep in Joe's chest and Emily swore the temperature in the room rose at least fifty degrees. Her whole body was trembling when she reluctantly broke away.

"You shouldn't be in here," she said, a little breathlessly. "Anyone could walk through that door, and then we'd have some explaining to do."

"Yeah." Joe leaned his forehead against hers and she could tell he was trying to steady himself. "Okay, I'll meet you upstairs in a little while."

"Sounds good." She stepped away from him, hoping her legs would hold her upright. "I'm done for today, so I'm going to go take a shower, and then we can go to Frank and Nancy's room and see what Dirk has to say."

"Okay." He drew her back to him with a sly smile. "But not before I get another kiss, Mademoiselle."

Her eyes closed as he ran his lips over her neck, stopping just underneath her ear, in exactly the spot that drove her crazy. _Maybe nobody would miss the costume if I borrowed it for a day or two._

OOOoooOOO

An hour later, Nancy stepped out of the shower in her hotel room, having washed away the last of the day's hairspray and stage make-up. She dressed quickly in a pale yellow sundress, reapplied some light make-up and walked out of the bathroom, just as Frank was coming through the door.

"Wow, am I glad to see you," Nancy told him, stepping into his arms. "What a day. I never want to be an actress. It's much harder than detective work. People pulling at you, yelling at you, dressing you, un-dressing you."

She heard Frank chuckle as he hugged her tightly, and she sighed with pleasure. This feeling was completely new. Nancy had always prided herself on being independent, relying on nobody but herself for strength, not needing to be comforted…but after only a few days, she found herself craving the warmth of Frank's embrace. She loved having his strong arms around her, loved the security he gave her. And dare she even think it? Loved how protective he was of her. Not that she was ready to tell him that though. Not just yet.

"You did a wonderful job," he said, tilting his head down and kissing the top of hers lightly. "I saw your scene." She felt him smile against her forehead. "I liked your costume."

"Oh, don't even bring that up," Nancy cringed. "What a nightmare that thing was. I don't even want to discuss it." She changed the subject. "Did you find any clues in the prop room?"

"We found something." Frank moved away from Nancy and went over to his backpack. He rummaged through it, removing what looked like a small painting, and gently placed it on the bed.

"What do you think?" he asked, gesturing to the canvas he and Joe had found earlier.

"Well, I don't love the painting, but I'm not an art person," Nancy responded, as she inspected the portrait of an older woman done in rather monochromatic tones. "Let's see what Dirk and Emily think."

A knock sounded on the door at the same moment the telephone rang.

Nancy smiled. "I'll get the door." She opened it up and found Dirk standing on the other side, still dressed in the suit he'd been wearing during the taping of the show. "Oh, good," she said. "Just the person we need to see."

Dirk looked concerned. "Is something wrong?"

Nancy beckoned for him to follow her into the main part of the room. Frank was still on the phone.

"Yeah, Joe. Come on up. We're waiting for you." Frank hung up and looked at both of them. "Joe and Emily are on their way."

Dirk nodded. "So, how did it go today?"

Nancy gestured to the canvas on the bed.

"What do you have there?" Dirk asked, moving closer

"Joe and I found it in the prop room," Frank explained. "It was on a list of items we were supposed to locate and check off. We took it, then marked it as missing," he said with a grin.

Dirk leaned over the artwork and gasped. "It can't be." He pulled a magnifying glass out of his suit coat and held it close to the painting.

"It can't be what?" Nancy asked.

"I think it's another stolen Van Gogh," he said slowly.

Nancy watched as he seemed to be intently examining the brush strokes. "How can you tell?" she asked. "Don't you have to run tests on it or something?"

"Well, the kind of tests you're thinking of generally don't work on Van Gogh's pieces. They were painted too recently," Dirk explained.

"The late eighteen-hundreds is too recently?" Frank asked, a note of disbelief in his voice.

"Yes, actually," Dirk went on. "Most of the time Van Gogh's work is authenticated through stylistic analysis."

Another knock was heard at the door, and Nancy let Joe and Emily in.

"Emily, come over here," Dirk called out.

OOO

Joe followed behind Emily and almost ran into her when she stopped short in the middle of the room. He could see her gaze was fixed on the canvas resting on the bed.

"That looks like..." Emily paused as Dirk stood up straight.

"What do you think?" he asked with a smile.

She pursed her lips. "It's another Van Gogh. One of his studies of peasants. Maybe from around eighteen eighty-five?" Joe watched as she looked up at Dirk, her wide eyes filled with excitement. "This one's been missing forever, too."

He nodded. "Very good."

"Thank you," she replied, gently reaching out her hand to touch the canvas.

"I don't know about this painting," Joe spoke up. "It's kind of dark, isn't it?" He chuckled inwardly. And ugly. _I guess I'll never appreciate art the way she does, _he thought as he watched his girlfriend, who was clearly enamored with it.

"Well, the life of peasant farmers back then_ was_ pretty dark and bleak," Dirk explained.

"Here's something I don't understand," Frank inserted. "Both of the Van Gogh's were hidden under a Gauguin painting. "Why?"

"I'm guessing it's a code," Dirk told him. "You see, Van Gogh and Gauguin were good friends. In fact, Gauguin contends that the night Van Gogh cut off his ear, they'd just had a huge fight. Gauguin stormed out, never really speaking to him again, and Van Gogh continued his descent into madness."

Joe shuddered. "Why on earth would you cut off your own ear?"

"Well, there are quite a few theories on that, actually," Dirk explained. "The most plausible one now is that Van Gogh suffered from a brain lesion, aggravated by absinthe, which was a popular beverage during that time." Dirk chuckled. "I use the term 'beverage' loosely. It was about seventy percent alcohol, and is now considered by some to be a highly addictive psychoactive drug, because of some of the other chemicals it contains."

"Wow, so he was an addict and had a mental illness?" Frank asked.

Dirk nodded. "He also didn't cut off his entire ear. Just the lower part of the left lobe."

"And then he took it, wrapped it in newspaper and gave it to his favorite prostitute at the local brothel, and told her to 'keep this object carefully,'" Emily finished. "Can you imagine?"

Joe grinned. "I'll bet that got him kicked off her client list."

Emily giggled. "I wouldn't doubt it."

Dirk laughed and shook his head. "Enough of the art history lesson. We need to figure out what's going on here." He turned to Nancy. "Did you find out anything about Penelope Randolph?"

"Only that she seems very nervous," Nancy told him. "She looked uneasy, like she was waiting for something or someone. I don't know, she just seemed a bit edgy to me."

"Yeah, I need you to keep a close eye on her, because something is definitely up. That is not her usual personality." He turned to Frank. "Why don't I take the paintings? I'll get them back to Washington, so we can keep them safe."

"That would be a huge relief." Frank handed him the other Van Gogh and the provenance file.

"Okay, then," Dirk said. "Everybody back on the set tomorrow morning?"

"Definitely," Nancy answered for them all.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Thanks so much for the feedback, Leya, Diogenes, Jackie, Mrs. Frank and Virtute! Always fun to read! And Diogenes, don't worry. Emily only touched the side of the canvas, not the painting itself. I've volunteered in an art museum for well over fifteen years...I promise I won't let her besmirch the Van Gogh. ;-) Thanks again to all who are reading!

Chapter 14

By ten o'clock the next morning, Frank was back with Joe in the prop room, cataloging another list of items for Ed, the assistant prop master.

"I'm not seeing anything remotely suspicious in this bunch of stuff, are you Joe?" he asked, tapping his clipboard with a pencil.

"Not unless you consider dishes and flatware fine art." Joe held up a floral handled soup spoon.

Frank sighed. "All right, we're almost done with this group of items. Let's hurry and then do some investigating on our own."

Before Joe could answer, a side door opened and a man entered. As Frank peered through the metal shelving containing the prop room inventory, Joe grabbed his arm. "That's the goon that decked me in the warehouse. The one who tried to swipe the painting."

Frank nodded. "Well, now I think we're finally getting somewhere. Let's go see what he's up to."

OOOoooOOO

Emily donned her costume and turned to Nancy, who was finishing up with the hair and make-up woman, prior to them taking their places on the set for the day's taping of _The Resort_. Nancy was reprising her role as the French maid, while Emily was slated to appear as an extra in a poolside scene.

"Please tell me that I am not standing here wearing a bikini and stiletto heels," Emily groaned, as she surveyed her appearance in the large dressing room mirror.

"That's what you get for being able to 'fill out' your previous costume so well," Nancy jibed.

"Thanks," Emily muttered, as she pulled on a cover-up. She turned to Nancy. "Shall we get this over with?"

"Yes." Nancy walked toward the door. "I want to move on to some serious investigating."

Emily giggled. "Pardon me for saying this, but that sounded totally ridiculous coming from someone dressed as a French maid."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know."

OOOoooOOO

Frank snuck quietly between the rows of shelving with Joe on his heels, trying to get closer to their suspect. The man walked to the far end of the prop room and entered an enclosed space that appeared to be a small office, with a glass window extending along one side. Frank crouched down low and observed as the man placed a small statue of a ballerina on a desk, then rifled through a filing cabinet, pulling out a manila folder and setting it beside the statue.

"What's that?" Joe hissed. "Another art object?"

Frank shrugged his shoulders. "How would I know?"

They watched for a few more minutes, while the man examined the papers in the file. A phone rang in the office, and he picked it up. Although they couldn't hear the conversation, Frank could tell from his actions that whatever was being said was upsetting him. The man slammed down the receiver, exited the office, and stormed down an aisle, going out through the main door of the prop room.

Frank and Joe exchanged glances with one another. "After you," Joe said, gesturing toward the office with a grin.

OOOoooOOO

Nancy was standing on the set, which was currently decorated as an elaborate entrance hall of a mansion, ready to rehearse her scene. She was poised at the bottom of a grand staircase, tray in hand, ready to greet Penelope Randolph when she arrived at the foot of the steps. Penelope and Dirk Benson were positioned at the top of the staircase, off to the left.

Nancy watched Miss Randolph closely. _I wonder why she seems so jumpy, _she mused, as she balanced two champagne glasses filled with sparkling apple juice in the center of the silver tray.

"Okay, are we ready?" called out the director in a loud voice. "Miss Randolph? Mr. Benson?"

They both nodded down to him.

The director looked at Nancy. "Miss...er...Maid?"

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"All right, then," he shouted. "Rehearsal only. Begin when you're ready."

Penelope Randolph walked from her position offstage onto the staircase landing. "Certainly not, Preston," she said to Dirk in an annoyed tone. "I don't care how much you think you're in love with Afton. You will never be allowed to marry her and bring that tramp into our family."

"But Mother," Dirk began to protest as he stepped into the upstairs hallway. "You can't do that to me. I can marry whomever I choose. I'm of age, remember?"

"I don't care how old you are," Penelope began as she moved to descend the staircase. Without warning, a scream tore from her throat as she lurched forward and tumbled headlong down the stairs, landing with a sickening thud at the bottom.

Nancy dropped the tray of drinks she was holding and rushed over to the crumpled form of Miss Randolph. Her leg was twisted at an odd angle, and she wasn't moving. Nancy reached her just as Dirk did.

"Is she..." Nancy whispered, afraid to say the word.

"No," Dirk said, as he held his fingers to her neck. "She has a pulse."

Nancy let out a sigh of relief as other members of the cast and crew began to crowd in around her.

"Step back," Dirk called out loudly. "Give her some room. Don't move her!" he said to a stagehand, who pushed in next to Dirk to kneel beside Penelope.

"The paramedics are on their way," another crew member shouted out as he hung up a phone.

Dirk stood and gestured to Nancy. She walked over to him and they climbed to the top of the staircase. Dirk pointed down and Nancy followed his gaze.

"This was no accident," he said. "Look."

Nancy stared down at the top step, her eyes finally focusing on a thin strand of wire, strung across the top step and attached to the balusters on either side of the staircase. She gasped and looked up at him.

"I know." His voice was grim. "I just about fell myself. In fact, I would have if I hadn't been holding onto the newel post."

"Who? Why?" Nancy asked.

Dirk shook his head. "I'm not sure. But let's get this out of here, or I'm going to have fifty local cops sticking their noses into a federal investigation and screwing it up royally."

He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief , then leaned down and pulled out the nails on each side that were holding the wire, while Nancy made sure no one was watching. She didn't think she really needed to worry, as all eyes were on Penelope Randolph, who was slowly beginning to regain consciousness.

Dirk handed the wire and his handkerchief to Nancy. "Get rid of it," he instructed.

Nancy shoved the wire into the top of her costume, then turned to Dirk. "I'm going to do some investigating. This is getting scary."

"Me, too," he said as he gazed around at everyone on the set. "Because clearly someone here wanted her dead."

OOOoooOOO

Joe entered the office vacated only moments before by the man who'd attacked him two days ago. Frank followed him and reached for the file the man had been holding before the phone call which led to his hasty retreat.

Joe moved close to the desk and leaned down to examine the ballerina statue resting there as best he could without actually touching it. He had no idea if it was real or a dime-store prop, but he hoped Emily or Dirk would be able to tell.

"Joe?" Frank turned to him. "I think this is provenance."

"Huh?" He leaned over Frank's shoulder to get a closer look at the file.

"You know, the documentation for art work. That's what Emily called it."

"You learn quick, bro," Joe teased.

"Yeah, well, I am the smart one," Frank grinned back.

Joe rolled his eyes as Frank paged through the papers in the file.

"And it appears to be for this statue." Frank held up a page from an auction catalog. "According to this, the statue is a Degas."

"Degas?" Joe wrinkled his forehead. "I thought he was a painter."

"Maybe he worked in another medium, too," Frank said. "Michelangelo did."

"Yeah, maybe," Joe agreed. "So, what's this guy doing with it?"

"Let's find out," Frank said, moving toward the filing cabinet. "If this file was in here, maybe there's more."

OOOoooOOO

Nancy was racing away from the set when she was stopped by Emily.

"What on earth is going on?" Emily asked, a worried look on her face.

"Come with me," Nancy called, as she headed down a corridor to the dressing rooms. She paused, checking to make sure nobody was around, then said, "Somebody just tried to kill Penelope Randolph."

Emily's eyes went wide. "What? Who?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Nancy told her. "Now, Miss Randolph has been acting nervous and edgy for two days. Something's clearly been bothering her, and I want to know what." She continued down the hall, with Emily following behind, and stopped short in front of a dressing room with Miss Randolph's name painted on it in gold lettering.

"Hopefully, we'll find some answers in here."

She watched as Emily stared at the door. "We're breaking in?"

"Can you think of a better way to find out what's been bugging her?" Nancy asked, knocking softly on the door.

"Nancy, you forget, I'm not a detective," Emily reminded her. "Don't ask me anything, because I have no idea what I'm doing."

"You don't have to," Nancy said, removing a lock pick from her pocket. "Just stick with me." She quickly unlocked the dressing room, and the two girls entered, shutting the door behind them.

OOOoooOOO

Joe continued to poke around on the desk while Frank was rapidly shuffling through papers in the top drawer of the filing cabinet.

Joe noticed a letter addressed to Mr. Craig Simpson sitting on top of the inbox. "Hey, Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"What did Ed say the name of the prop master was?"

Frank paused, staring up at the ceiling. "Um, I think he said his name was Craig."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Joe held up the letter. "I think the thug that hit me was Craig, the prop master."

"That would explain some things," Frank muttered, as he examined the contents of a file.

Joe noticed a tiny sliver of yellow paper sticking out from underneath the desk blotter. He pushed the blotter aside, and picked it up. "Frank?" he called out again, more excitedly this time.

"Did you find something?" Frank asked.

"I think so," Joe said. "Look." He showed him the paper, marked with dates and the titles of what appeared to be works of art, listed in orderly columns.

"This may be what we're looking for," Frank said, glancing over at him.

Joe heard the door to the prop room open. "Let's get out of here."

He pushed Frank toward the entrance of the office and shoved the paper in his pants pocket.

They quickly scrambled down an aisle of the prop room, taking cover behind a large wicker love seat.

"That damn bitch," they heard Simpson hiss as he approached his office. "She's going to blow this whole thing sky high." He roughly grabbed the statue and file from his desk and beat a hasty retreat back through the prop room.

"Who do you think he was talking about?" Joe whispered.

"Only one way to find out," Frank said with a grin.

"Yeah, I was afraid that's what you were going to say." Joe sighed. He had nothing else on his agenda today. Why not try and corner the thug who'd beat him up once already. Might as well go for a matching bruise on the other cheek. "Okay, let's follow him." He stood and offered his hand to Frank to help him up.

OOOoooOOO

Nancy paused at the entrance of Penelope Randolph's opulent dressing room with Emily right behind her. It was elegantly furnished, with Victorian style sofas and chairs, a dressing table, and racks and racks of clothing.

"Wow," Emily said in a hushed tone. "I guess this is what they mean by star power."

"I guess," Nancy said, heading over to Penelope's dressing table. Her mind was focused completely on the case. Why on earth would someone have wanted to kill Miss Randolph? It didn't make sense. She began searching through the items on the top, and then started opening drawers and examining the contents.

"What should I be looking for?" Emily asked.

Nancy glanced up to see her standing in front of an open armoire in the corner of the room, going through the pockets of Penelope's clothing. "Anything that seems suspicious."

"Okay, I'll do my best."

The girls work in companionable silence for the next five minutes, then Nancy called out, "I think I've got something." She bent down to examine a drawer in Miss Randolph's dressing table. The other drawers were all closed flush with the front of the vanity, but this one was sticking out slightly. She tugged on it, and while it gave a tiny bit, something was clearly stopping it from opening all the way.

Emily arrived at Nancy's side just as the drawer finally came loose. Nancy flew backwards and landed with a hard thud on her bottom. "Here," she said to Emily. "Hold this."

Emily put her hands around the drawer, holding it aloft, while Nancy peered underneath it. "Aha!" she said, pulling out a bundle of letters, tied with a violet ribbon.

Emily set the drawer down on a nearby chair. "What's that?"

"I don't know yet," Nancy answered, as she untied the ribbon. "But if this is where she's keeping these, then she's hiding them." Nancy pulled one of the letters out of a yellowed envelope and began reading aloud:

_My Darling Daughter,_

_I don't know if this letter will ever make its way over to England, given the trying circumstances we are now enduring, but I must try to get this information to you. I fear that your mother and I will be taken away any day now by the powers that be, and I don't know when I will have an opportunity to speak with you face to face.  
><em>_We will be leaving our home to try and join you, if possible. If that does not happen, please know that your mother and I love you dearly, and above everything, we mean to keep you safe from the horrors of this invasion.  
><em>_I have done my best to protect your inheritance. The artwork has been sent to the monastery and I have high hopes that Father Flanagan will do his best to preserve it until the time comes when it can be appreciated and enjoyed again.  
><em>_I have included a list of the pieces I have sent to him for safe keeping, and I pray that you will try to restore the collection when this war is over if I am unable. _

_With much love,  
><em>_Father._

"I-is there a list?" Emily asked in a hushed tone.

Nancy dug through the envelope again. "Yes." She handed it to Emily. "What does it mean?"

She watched intently as Emily scanned the list, hoping they had just uncovered a major clue.

Emily gasped as her eyes moved over the paper. "Raphael's _Portrait of a Young Man_, _Le Salon de Madame Aron_ by Vuillard, _The Pink Wall_ by Matisse..." Emily looked up. "Nancy, these are all missing paintings. Do these letters mean that Penelope Randolph's father owned them all at one time?"

Nancy reached for more of the letters in the bundle and began reading them quickly. "Apparently. This letter talks about her being sent to England before the Nazi invasion of France." She paused and blinked. Her vision was getting a bit blurry. She looked up at Emily and it felt like the room was starting to spin. "Wow, I'm feeling a little dizzy."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Emily handed the letter back to Nancy. "I thought it was just excitement over the paintings." She swayed a little on her high heels. "I think maybe I need to sit down."

Nancy was struggling to replace the drawer in the dressing table. "Help me, Em. I can't get this."

Emily staggered over to Nancy and the two of them managed to get the drawer back in place. Nancy sagged to the floor. "Here, I'll keep the letters. Penelope certainly won't be back anytime soon after the fall she took." She shoved the letters down her blouse.

"Um, I think I need to get some fresh air," Emily told her. "I feel awful."

"Me too," Nancy murmured, trying to summon the strength to drag herself to the door.

"I can't do this, Nance," Emily said, crumpling down to the floor. "I'm so tired."

_We are in serious trouble_, Nancy thought, before she completely lost consciousness.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Thank you for the reviews, Mrs. Frank, Jackie, Freestar, Leya and Virtute! They are much appreciated. Just as a note, the paintings mentioned in the last chapter were all stolen during World War II. Two of the three have since been recovered and restored to their rightful owners, but the Raphael is still missing. Thanks again to those reading!

Chapter 15

Joe and Frank slipped quietly out of the prop room and followed Craig Simpson, the prop master, into the hotel lobby. They paused behind a large column, waiting to see what his next move would be.

Joe nudged Frank as something across the lobby caught his eye.

"Look," he said in a low voice.

Simpson had summoned the bellhop, who was now headed in his direction, and handed him the suspected Degas statue and some papers. He appeared to be discussing something with him very seriously.

"The bellhop is going to deliver that statue to another contact, is my guess," Frank whispered.

"Maybe. Or maybe he's just holding it for him. Valuable artwork has been disappearing from the prop room, you know," Joe reminded his brother with a grin.

"Yeah," Frank snorted. "So, which one do you want to follow?"

"I'll take the bellhop," Joe said. "I don't want to take the chance of Craig seeing me." _And knocking me on my ass again._

Frank nodded. "Okay." He patted Joe on the back. "Be careful."

"You, too."

OOOoooOOO

Dirk Benson was finally able to get away from the set unnoticed. He walked along the corridor toward his dressing room, but instead, stopped in front of Penelope Randolph's. He removed his lock picking tool from his pocket, inserted it into the doorknob, and quickly popped the lock. He opened the door and stared in disbelief at what he saw. Nancy and Emily, still clad in their costumes from earlier that day, were sprawled on the floor, unconscious.

"What the hell?" Dirk leaned down and checked their pulses, baffled by what could have happened. He turned quickly and stuck his head out of the dressing room door, looking for help. Spotting his co-star, Jason Chandler, at the far end of the hall, he called his name in an urgent tone.

Jason looked up. "Yeah?"

"Get down here," Dirk ordered. "I need you."

While Jason began jogging down to Penelope's dressing room, Dirk hurried inside and scooped up Nancy. He moved out into the hallway and was adjusting her weight in his arms when Jason reached him.

"Get her," Dirk snapped, gesturing backwards with his head toward Emily.

Dirk waited as Jason entered the dressing room and discovered Emily lying on the floor.

"Holy…!" Jason snatched her up in his arms and looked at his co-star questioningly.

"Let's put them here," Dirk said, moving down the hallway and pausing about twenty feet away from the dressing room door.

Jason did as he was told, then gave Dirk a sharp look. "You want to tell me what the hell's going on?"

"I know as much as you do," Dirk improvised quickly. "The girls came back here to get some of Miss Randolph's things for her to take to the hospital. When they didn't return after a few minutes, I came to find them." He gestured to both of them. "This is what I found."

Jason whistled low. "Are they going to be okay?"

"I don't know." Dirk turned to his co-star, frustrated. "Damn it, go get one of the paramedics."

Jason ran off toward the set, while Dirk continued to try and assist the girls. He leaned over Nancy in an attempt to determine how shallow her breathing was. He shook his head. "Sorry, Nancy," he said, as he tore open the bodice of her French maid outfit.

Tucked inside her bra, he found the wire he had given her earlier and the letters. Dirk couldn't help but smile as he pocketed the items. He leaned his head against her chest, and felt it rising and falling. Shallow, but even. He turned his attention to Emily.

"Emily!" Dirk gave her a gentle shake and lifted her head, trying to rouse her. He got no response, and laid her back down to check her pulse.

Jason rounded the corner, slightly out of breath. "They're on their way." He dropped to his knees next to Emily. "God, she's beautiful."

Dirk gave him a look. "Jason, this is hardly the time," he muttered, turning back to Nancy.

"I'm not being a jerk!" Jason insisted. "I mean it." Emily stirred slightly and Jason lifted her head up, resting it gently in his lap.

Dirk noticed Emily's eyes fluttering and her lips moving as if she were trying to speak. He sighed in relief, happy she wasn't completely unconscious.

Jason bent forward in an apparent attempt to catch what she was saying.

"Joe?" Emily breathed, as the paramedics arrived in the hallway.

OOOoooOOO

Joe trailed the bellhop down a flight of stairs into what appeared to be an "employees only" area of the resort. He attempted to look nonchalant as he strolled past other workers, never letting the suspect out of his sight.

The man stepped through a doorway, and after a few moments, Joe followed cautiously. He realized he had entered the employee locker room, and crept down several aisles of gray metal lockers, listening carefully, so he could discern the whereabouts of his quarry.

Joe's head snapped around as a loud metallic bang echoed throughout the room. He peered around the corner, and saw the bellhop slam his fist against one of the lockers, repeating the sound.

"Damn lock!" he heard the man mutter before glancing around furtively.

Joe stepped back.

After a moment, he dared another look. The bellhop was cramming the statue and the provenance file into a cardboard box. Joe watched, his brow furrowed, as the man shoved the box on a shelf above a coat rack for employee uniforms.

"If Simpson wants that damn statue hidden, he can do it himself," the bellhop muttered again. "He ain't payin' me enough for what he's askin' me to do."

He turned and stomped off, slamming another locker with his hand for good measure. Joe waited for a moment to be sure the man had left, then went and removed the box from the shelf.

"This is getting too easy," he murmured, taking out the statue and the file. He grabbed an employee apron from the coat rack and wrapped the items in it. Then he straightened up, replaced the box, and casually walked out of the locker room.

OOOoooOOO

In the meantime, Frank followed the prop master back to the prop room for _The Resort_. Simpson entered through the open door, and Frank quickly slipped in behind him. He stopped and ducked down an aisle when he saw Simpson approach the two men that Frank and Joe had encountered the day before.

Frank shook his head. _The guys who thought Nancy and Emily were hot. Of course._

Simpson appeared to be having a heated exchange with the two men, although Frank wasn't able to discern exactly what was being said. He was slowly moving down the aisles of the prop room, when someone else burst through the door. Frank froze, as the man passed close by him, but he was clearly distracted, and didn't seem to notice.

"Hey, Simpson!" the man called out.

"What do you want?" Simpson answered back in an irritated tone.

"Walsh needs you on the set right away. Penelope Randolph took a dive down the staircase, and he wants you out there to check the props. Now."

Simpson sighed. "How the hell is it my fault if some old woman fell on her ass? She's too damn senile to be doing this anyway."

He stormed out of the prop room, followed by the three other men.

Frank stepped out of his hiding place. Took a dive? He wondered if Nancy had seen what happened?

He left the prop room slowly, to avoid running into Simpson, and headed to the set.

A mass of confusion greeted Frank as he approached the area where the day's filming was taking place. He saw emergency workers mixed in with the cast and crew, all huddled around Penelope Randolph who was being loaded onto a gurney. Frank grabbed a passing crew member by the arm.

"What's going on?"

"Didn't you hear?"

"No, I've been working in the prop room," Frank explained. "Did someone get hurt?"

"I'll say," the crew member replied. "Miss Randolph had a bad fall. Pitched herself right down the staircase."

"Is she going to be okay?"

The guy shrugged. "Don't know, but taping is over for today. That's for sure."

The crew guy continued past, and Frank began searching for Nancy. He struggled to swallow the panic rising in his throat when he didn't see her, Dirk, or Emily anywhere.

They had to be around somewhere. Maybe they went to the dressing rooms after the accident. A sense of dread enveloped him when he spotted one of the paramedics running over to a man who appeared to be his partner.

He could only hear snippets of their conversation, but what he did hear, "girls unconscious", made him cold with fear. He quickly hurried after the emergency workers as they dashed away from the set.

OOOoooOOO

"What's going on here?" asked the paramedic, as he arrived in the hallway in front of Miss Randolph's dressing room.

Dirk looked up and glanced at the man's nametag as he dropped down beside Nancy and slipped a stethoscope around his neck.

"Rob?" Dirk asked, and the paramedic nodded. "I don't know. I opened the dressing room door and found them both unconscious."

The paramedic glanced at Emily. "She looks like she's starting to come around." He bent over Nancy and listened to her heart. "Her pulse is strong, and her breathing is steady." He started examining her body. "No bumps, contusions or lacerations."

His partner arrived and knelt down next to Emily, who was drifting in and out of consciousness and murmuring incoherently.

"What have we got?" the second paramedic asked his partner.

"Unconscious with no visible signs of injury," Rob told him. "It seems like it might be chemically related from what I'm seeing." He placed a pulse oximeter on Nancy's fingertip and waited for the number to register. "Looks like it's low."

He slipped an oxygen mask over Nancy's face and switched on his portable tank before turning to Dirk. "Did you notice anything funny in the dressing room? Any weird odors? Open containers? Medications?"

"No," Dirk said, shaking his head. "I only saw them." He stood. "I'm going to check it out now, though."

"I can't let you do that," Rob said. "It might be dangerous. We'll send someone with the proper equipment in there." He stood, grabbing the walkie-talkie from his belt. "I need a firefighter and another portable oxygen tank on the set, please. Down by the dressing rooms. Possible contamination or chemical spill in the area."

OOOoooOOO

Frank was headed for the hallway where Penelope Randolph's dressing room was located, at a rapid pace. As he rounded the corner, he almost ran right into the paramedic who was waiting for the second oxygen tank to be delivered. Frank looked at him, then glanced down the hall. As he saw Nancy lying on the floor, a fear like he had never known before gripped his heart, and he began to run toward her. He dropped down between her and Emily and looked up at Dirk. "What happened?"

Dirk shook his head. "We don't know, Frank. I went into Penelope's dressing room and found them on the floor…unconscious."

Frank swallowed hard as he knelt over Nancy and stroked her hair. His eyes met the paramedic's. "Is she going to be all right?" he asked, almost choking on his words.

"I think so," Rob told him. "My instincts are telling me that this is some sort of chemical exposure. We'll know more in a few minutes."

He gestured at the two firemen approaching them. "Right through that door," he said, as the firemen donned their protective masks.

Frank's mind was racing as he reached for Nancy's hand and held it in both of his own. She had to be all right. She had to be. He wasn't going to lose her. Not now. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm tenderly. "Nancy, can you hear me? It's Frank. I'm right here with you. Wake up, honey."

Nancy slowly turned her head toward Frank's voice and the paramedic adjusted her oxygen mask.

She's responding nicely," Rob told him. "Try not to worry."

Frank nodded as he leaned forward and kissed Nancy's forehead. He struggled to keep his emotions under control as fear, anxiety and an overwhelming feeling of helplessness, threatened to take control. He looked up as the firefighters exited Penelope Randolph's dressing room, a small space heater in hand.

"Carbon monoxide," the one firefighter said as he removed his mask. "Miss Randolph had this turned on, but the vent was buried under a pile of her clothing."

A heater? In Jamaica? Frank exchanged a knowing glance with Dirk. This was no accident. Someone wanted Penelope Randolph dead.

The paramedic nodded. "That's what I figured."

Frank looked down at his girlfriend. Someone poisoned her. Someone _poisoned_ her. "Are you sure she's going to be okay?" he asked Rob.

"I'm sure," the paramedic assured him. "We just need to get her system cleared of the CO." He adjusted the flow of oxygen on the tank. "It doesn't appear that she suffered too much exposure. Not like sleeping in a home filled with it overnight or anything."

Frank turned as a paramedic arrived with another oxygen tank and placed a mask on Emily. "How's she doing?"

"She was already starting to come around when we got here," the second medic said. "She'll be fine."

Frank sighed as he leaned toward Emily, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. At least Joe wouldn't have to see her like this. He looked up and noticed Jason for the first time. "Thank you for helping her."

Jason met his gaze and Frank thought he seemed surprised. "Oh. Yeah, no problem." He stroked his fingers delicately over Emily's cheek. "No problem at all."

Nancy began tossing restlessly, and Frank bent down over her. "Nan, honey, just relax." He kissed her forehead gently. "It's okay. I'm here."

Frank looked to Rob. "She seems so agitated." He bit his tongue to stop himself from telling the guy to work faster, do something else, make her regain consciousness. And to threaten him within an inch of his life if Nancy was feeling any pain at all. Rationally, he knew the paramedic was doing all he could to help her. Emotionally, he felt like it wasn't nearly enough.

Rob nodded. "She'll be a little out of it, and kind of loopy until we get more oxygen in her."

He stood up as two firefighters wheeled gurneys down the hall toward him. "We're going to need to take them to the hospital for observation. They'll need blood drawn at regular intervals to monitor their CO levels. When the levels are normal, they'll be discharged." He and his partner lifted Nancy onto the gurney. "Shouldn't be more than a few hours."

Frank started to follow Nancy then stopped short. "Joe!" He grabbed Dirk's arm. "Joe doesn't know about this. He's...er…working."

Dirk nodded. "Don't worry, I'll find Joe and get him to the hospital. I have a car."

Frank looked down at Emily. "I hate for her to be in an ambulance alone."

"It'll be all right, Frank," Dirk assured him. "Jason will go with her."

Frank sighed. Joe wouldn't like that at all. But seeing as he had no other choice, Frank nodded. "Okay, thanks."

As the EMTs lifted Emily onto the second gurney, Dirk helped Jason to his feet. "Will you ride with her?"

"Absolutely," Jason said, leaning over the gurney, and pulling the two sides of Emily's cover-up closed.

_Better keep your hands to yourself, Bud,_ Frank thought as he watched Jason. _She's not yours to touch._


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews, Mrs. Frank, Ariandula, Jackie, Kenna, Leya, Unobtrusivescribe, and Virtute! You made my day! :) Thanks, as always, to all others reading, too.

Chapter 16

At the hospital, Frank watched as the doctors rushed Nancy behind a green curtain. He went to follow, but a nurse held up her hand. "We need you to wait here, sir. She'll be fine."

Frank sighed, feeling helpless once again. He watched as Emily arrived and was then wheeled into the portioned-off area right next to Nancy. He paused and observed Jason Chandler critically. He had to hand it to him. He was either a much better actor than Frank thought, or he really was concerned about Emily.

Jason must have sensed him staring, because he turned and looked right at him.

"Hey," Jason said, by way of a greeting.

Frank extended his hand as he walked toward him. "I'm Frank. And I want to thank you again for watching over Emily. I know my brother will be grateful."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, my brother, Joe," Frank explained.

Jason nodded. "Her husband?"

"Yes."

"Thought so."

Frank was about to reply when he heard Nancy cry out from behind the curtain. He dashed over and flung it open, startling the nurse standing on the other side.

"Sir, I thought I told you that you weren't allowed..." She was interrupted by Nancy.

"No, please, I want him."

Frank rushed to her side. "It's okay, Nan. Don't worry, the doctors are trying to help you."

Nancy struggled to sit. "Frank, where am I? What's going on?" She looked down at her torn bodice. "What happened to my dress?"

Frank put his hands on her shoulders and gently eased her back down. "Ssshh, Nan. Let the doctors finish, and then I'll tell you everything."

Nancy gave him the tiniest suggestion of a nod, and Frank stepped backwards. "I'll be right here, baby."

No matter what Nurse Ratched had to say about it.

OOOoooOOO

Jason had been pacing restlessly outside of Emily's cubicle, and finally decided to check on her. He stuck his head through the curtain, and saw that she'd opened her eyes and they were wide with fright. The doctor was checking her chart, as a nurse finished drawing some blood.

"Um, can I come in?" Jason asked.

The doctor looked up at him. "Are you with her?"

He nodded.

"That'll be okay for a few minutes." The doctor replaced the clipboard at the end of Emily's bed. "She's still pretty out of it," he told Jason. "She's probably not going to understand what you're saying for a little while."

"That's okay," Jason told him. "I only want to make sure she's going to be all right."

"She'll be fine," the doctor said and smiled. "As her carbon monoxide levels drop, she'll get more lucid, too." He stepped through the green curtain.

Jason walked over to the bed and looked down at Emily. She turned to him and seemed to be trying to focus her eyes. "Joe?" she asked in what he thought was a hopeful tone, as she stared at his blond hair.

Jason smiled down at her. "I wish."

Emily closed her eyes and reopened them. She reached her hand up toward Jason. "Joe, where am I?"

Jason took her hand and leaned down, stroking her hair and trying to comfort her. "You're in the hospital. But, don't worry, you're going to be fine."

OOOoooOOO

Joe Hardy burst through the doors of the emergency room, with Dirk Benson hurrying to keep up with him. He stopped the first nurse he saw to ask where Emily was. She pointed to a green curtain and as Joe rushed over to it, Frank stepped out from Nancy's cubicle.

"Joe!"

Joe slowed down and turned to him. "I need to see Emily, Frank."

"Yeah. Just a minute." Frank grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside. "Listen, I want you to know that Jason is in there with her."

"What?" Joe asked, sounding somewhat confused.

"Yeah, and he's been really helpful, okay? So, don't do anything foolish," Frank warned as Dirk finally reached them.

"Frank, I'm not going to do anything at all." Joe shook his arm loose from his brother's grip. "I just want to see Emily. Please." He hurried back to the green curtain and yanked it aside.

He stopped short, when he saw his girlfriend lying in the hospital bed, pale, with an oxygen tube taped to her cheek and an IV in her arm. "No," he whispered, rushing up to the side of the bed. "Emily?" He leaned over her, gently gathering her into his arms, being careful not to disturb any of the medical equipment.

Jason stepped back from the bed and stood against the curtain.

Joe held Emily close, cradling her head against his shoulder. "Oh, baby, are you okay?"

Emily's eyes fluttered open at the sound of Joe's voice and she smiled up at him. "I am now," she said weakly.

Joe's body relaxed with relief, and he tightened his embrace. "I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life," he told her, kissing her temple. He held her back from him a little. "Are you sure you're all right? You don't hurt anywhere?"

"I'm a little dizzy, but that's it," Emily told him, reaching her hand up and smoothing out the worry lines creasing his forehead. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," Joe said firmly. "I should have been with you."

Emily shook her head. "Stop." She slipped her arm around his neck and pulled him toward her. "Not another word."

Joe leaned in and kissed her tenderly. "I love you."

"Love you back."

The sound of a curtain being rapidly pulled aside startled Joe, and he looked up to see Frank grinning at him. "All right, enough of this schlock," he ordered.

Joe rolled his eyes at his brother while he helped Emily to sit up. He watched as she looked past Frank and Dirk to Nancy, who was lying on the cot next to her.

"There you are," Emily said with a smile. "I was worried about you."

"Likewise," Nancy told her.

In the midst of this, Joe noticed that Jason Chandler had disappeared through the other closed curtain. He kissed Emily on the cheek and whispered, "Be right back, babe." He waited for her to nod at him, then exited the cubicle. He spotted Jason headed for the main door of the ER.

"Hey," Joe called after him.

Jason stopped as Joe approached him.

"I need to thank you." Joe reached his hand out to Jason, who shook it. "I really appreciate you being there for Emily."

"It was nothing," Jason replied.

"It wasn't 'nothing' to me," Joe said seriously.

"Yeah, well…" Jason looked down at the floor, and then up at Joe again. "You're a lucky guy, Joe."

"I know it."

Jason laughed. "You know, I hit on her yesterday. When she was on the set." He ran his hand through his hair. "She turned me down. Twice."

Joe smiled. "Come on, Jason. I can't believe a big TV star like you has a problem getting dates."

"I don't. She's the first girl who's done that since I've been in Hollywood." He sighed. "I can get all the dates I want." He looked Joe straight in the eyes. "But I can't seem to get what you obviously have."

"Sure you can. You just need to find a single girl who turns you down. She's the one you want to go after."

Jason laughed. "Yeah." He held out his hand. "See you, Joe. And tell Emily I hope she's feeling better soon."

Joe shook his hand again. "I'll do that."

He watched as Jason turned to walk away, only to be stopped by two giggling candy stripers.

"Are you Jason Chandler?" one of them asked him, wide-eyed.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I am," he responded with a grin, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

Joe shook his head, laughing, as he walked back toward Frank, Nancy and Emily. He noticed Frank was standing outside of the curtain as he approached and gave him a questioning look.

"The doctor is in there. He's going to move the girls to a room for awhile."

Frank put his hand on Joe's back and guided him to a secluded area of the waiting room. "Dirk went to call the bureau and fill them in on everything that happened today. He'll meet us upstairs so we can talk about this and try to make some sense out of it."

Joe nodded. "Yeah, we have to solve this case soon. Before anyone else gets hurt. Or worse."

OOOoooOOO

Twenty minutes later, settled in their semi-private hospital room, Nancy turned her head to Emily, who was lying in the bed next to her. "Well, this has been a fun day," she quipped.

"Yeah, what could be better than being poisoned?" Emily replied with a laugh.

"It was like a bad _Charlie's Angels _episode," Nancy said ruefully. "Lying in that dressing room, unconscious, wearing a French maid's outfit and a bikini."

Emily giggled. "Yeah, I'll bet not too many patients can say that their hospital gown is more modest than the outfit they had on when they got here."

Nancy snorted. "True, but at least your outfit was still intact when you arrived." She began laughing uncontrollably. "The entire front of my dress was torn in two." She leaned up on her arm to look at Emily. "I was a _topless _French maid."

Emily laughed as well. "Oh my gosh, Nancy! Does this sort of thing always happen to you when you do detective work?"

Nancy flopped back down onto her pillow. "Usually," she responded wryly. "But most of time, I'm not half naked."

Emily wiped the tears from her eyes. "I don't know which of our outfits looked more trampy. A topless French maid, or a string bikini with stiletto heels?" She burst into laughter anew.

Nancy looked up as the door opened and Frank and Joe came into the room. "Well, this is what we like to hear," Frank said with a grin.

Joe approached Emily's bed and she slid over patting the mattress. He sat down next to her and kissed the top of her head. "What's so funny?"

"What isn't?" Emily asked. She exchanged looks with Nancy, and they both began giggling.

Frank settled on Nancy's bed. "Well, I'm glad you two are able to laugh about this, but honestly, you scared us both half to death. I don't want you taking a chance like that ever again."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Oh, Frank, investigating someone's dressing room isn't 'taking a chance'. What happened was a fluke."

"What happened was you almost got killed," Joe inserted. He put his arms around Emily and she snuggled close to him.

Nancy sat up and looked from Frank to Joe. Time to set them straight on her parameters of investigating. Which were significantly broader than what Frank thought they should be. "Both of you would have done exactly the same the thing, so don't start with us. And seriously, this whole thing is just ridiculous...and embarrassing." She smiled. "At least we're not wearing those idiotic costumes anymore."

"Oh." Frank gave her a knowing smile. "It's okay, Nan. Everyone knows you came straight off a TV show set."

"So, what were you two doing in Penelope Randolph's dressing room anyway?" Joe asked.

"Looking for clues," Nancy said. "Someone hurt Penelope this morning, and we wanted to find out why."

"Yeah, Dirk filled me in on the staircase incident on the way over here," Joe said.

"And it looks like whoever did that probably booby-trapped her dressing room with the kerosene heater, too," Frank informed the girls.

"Kerosene heater?" Nancy asked. "Is that where the carbon monoxide was coming from?"

Frank nodded.

"Then whoever did this really was trying to kill her. Not just give her a good scare," Nancy mused.

"Apparently," Frank agreed. "So, what did you and Emily find while you were in there? Anything?"

Nancy's eyes widened. "Yes, we found something!" She reached for the front of her dress, and realized she was now wearing a hospital gown. "Frank, my dress. What happened to my dress?"

He looked baffled. "I don't know. They changed you out of it downstairs. Why?"

"Because the letters were in it," Nancy started to panic and threw back her sheets to get out of bed.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute." Frank stopped her. "You're not going anywhere."

She tried to push him aside. "I need to get those letters. They're important evidence," she insisted.

"Okay." He tried to calm her down. "I'll go look for them. But first, would you mind explaining what on earth you're talking about?"

"I think I can probably do that." Dirk Benson said with a grin as he entered the room. He walked over to Nancy's bed and handed her the letters, the wire, and her lock pick. "Is this what you were looking for?"

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, thank you."

"No problem," he told her. "And I'm sorry I had to rip your dress open, but I couldn't tell if you were breathing at the time."

She waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you found us."

"Me, too." Dirk said.

"You had all of that stuffed down your blouse?" Joe asked, seeming surprised.

"Some of us have more room to do that than others," Nancy said, looking pointedly at Emily, and smiling.

Emily turned crimson, while Joe chuckled and kissed her on the cheek.

Frank cleared his throat. "So, what was in the letters?"

Nancy handed them to him. "They're letters to Penelope from her father. They were written during the war. Right before the invasion of France, from how it sounds. Penelope had been sent to England so she would be safe."

Dirk interrupted. "I remember her mentioning that to me a long time ago. I think she said that her parents were captured by the Nazis for helping some Jewish employees of theirs escape to London. They were sent to a concentration camp where they were later killed."

"Oh, how awful," Emily interjected.

"Yes, and apparently her father owned and collected lots of paintings," Nancy continued. "According to the letter, he sent them to a monastery for safe-keeping during the war." She turned to Dirk. "Do you know if she ever recovered them?"

Dirk shook his head. "She never mentioned any artwork to me." He began to pace back and forth. "It's starting to make sense though. Maybe Penelope is trying to smuggle art that is actually rightfully hers."

"Is this something she could do on her own?" Joe asked, sounding skeptical.

"Absolutely not." Dirk said. "She's getting help from somewhere."

"From Craig Simpson," Frank spoke up.

Dirk spun on his heels to face him. "The prop master?"

Frank nodded. "Joe and I saw him with a statue of a dancer and a file of provenance information for it. He handed it off to the bellhop." He looked at Joe. "What happened after that?"

Joe picked up the story. "I followed the bellhop to the employee locker room. He tried to stash the statue and papers in a locker, but he couldn't get it to open, so he just crammed them in a cardboard box. When he left, I got the statue and files, took it back to the prop room, and hid them really well in there." He grinned. "I'm hoping it will prevent my room from being ransacked again."

"A statue of a dancer?" Dirk paused, then looked at Emily. "The one you showed me on the set yesterday, I'll bet."

"The files seemed to indicate that it was a Degas. Is that possible?" Frank queried.

"You bet it is," Dirk told him. "Degas was a sculptor as well as a painter."

"Then the first thing we need to do is talk to Penelope," Nancy said.

Dirk nodded. "You read my mind. She's here in the hospital."

"Great." Nancy threw back her covers again. "Let's go."

"Not so fast." Frank put his hands on her shoulders. "Am I going to have to tie you to this bed?"

"Frank, we don't have any time to waste," Nancy protested. "And I feel fine." She didn't like the look in his eyes. It was very determined. She knew she was going to have a fight on her hands if she was going to get her way in this situation.

"You may as well rest, Nancy," Dirk said. "Penelope isn't ready for visitors quite yet."

She settled herself reluctantly back against the pillows. "Okay, but when she is, I'm going up there." No matter what Frank said. Even though she thought his concern and protectiveness were sweet, she was not going to let it get in the way of her investigating this latest clue.

Frank leaned down and kissed her briefly on the lips. "When the doctor says you can, Drew. And not one second sooner."

Nancy rolled her eyes at Frank and crossed her arms in front of her. Why did he have to be so sexy when he was being overprotective? That wasn't playing fair.

"Hey Frank," Joe piped up as he pulled something out of his pocket. "What about this paper I found in Simpson's office?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that." Frank took it from Joe's outstretched hand. "It's a list of art objects with dates by them."

Dirk leaned in. "Let me see that." He scanned it, then looked up. "This is some sort of shipping schedule."

"What do you mean?" Joe stepped over to look at the paper. "Oh, I see," he said. "These dates seem to indicate when a piece of artwork is going to arrive here."

"So that Simpson will know what objects to expect, when," Frank surmised.

"According to this, he's going to be receiving a Monet this week." Dirk said. Nancy watched as he turned to Emily, whose eyes were wide.

"You're kidding?" Emily gasped.

"I think we need to set some sort of trap for Mr. Craig Simpson and bust this thing wide open," Frank said.

"Yes, and in order to do that, we need to get out of here." Nancy threw off her blanket again, only to be stopped by Frank, who sat on the bed next to her.

Before she could protest, the door to the girls' room opened and a gray haired doctor stepped inside. "Well, do I have a patient eager to leave this place?"

"And how, you do," Nancy said.

She watched as he walked over to her bed, comparing the notes on the nurse's chart with the clipboard in his hand. He picked up Nancy's wrist and checked her pulse, then made a notation on her chart. He did the same to Emily, then smiled. "Well, ladies, your most recent lab work came back clean. Meaning your CO levels are undetectable, and you are free to go."

Nancy couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as she started to push back her covers again. She had won. Frank couldn't possibly argue with what the doctor was saying.

"However, that does not mean you shouldn't rest for at least the remainder of the day," he cautioned. "By tomorrow, you should be able to resume your vacations...full speed ahead."

"That's terrific." Joe smiled and shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," he said, then turned to Nancy. "Remember, I said rest."

"Don't worry, Doctor," Frank spoke up. "I'll make sure that she does."

_Crap,_ Nancy thought.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Thanks for the wonderful feedback, Jackie, Mrs. Frank, Kenna and Virtute! You guys are great! We're getting close to the end...only a few more chapters after this one. Thanks to everyone who's read this far! I appreciate it.

Chapter 17

Twenty minutes later, Emily and Nancy were preparing to leave their room, while Frank and Joe signed their discharge papers for them.

Emily stood by her bed, still clad in her hospital gown. She was searching for the bag containing her personal belongings that the nurse had delivered earlier.

"Found it," she called out happily, then peered into the plastic bag. "No way." She looked up at Nancy. "No way am I walking out of here in this." She pulled out the bikini and stilettos and waved them in the air.

Nancy burst out laughing. "Aw, why not?"

Emily dissolved into laughter as well. "Only if you wear your topless French maid outfit."

"Oh, crap." Nancy emptied the contents of her plastic bag onto her bed.

Emily looked up as Frank and Joe pushed open the door to the girls' room slowly. "Everything okay? Can we come in?"

"No, everything is not okay," Nancy told them.

Frank's face was full of concern. "What's wrong?"

"This!" Nancy held up her costume.

"And this," Emily echoed, trying to stifle a giggle, as she shoved her bikini at Joe.

He looked at her, baffled.

"This is what they brought me in wearing. I'm not walking out of here in it," she explained.

A slow smile spread over Joe's face. "It's okay with me, baby."

She tickled him in the ribs. "Why did I know you were going to say that?"

Emily looked over at Frank who was clearly trying hard not to laugh at Nancy and her outfit. "I'm sure we can get you a pair of scrubs or something," he told her, his voice breaking into a slight chuckle.

"Well, get on it, Hardy," she ordered him with a grin and a playful slap on the bottom.

Frank reached out to grab her, and Nancy stepped just out of his reach. "You know I'm completely naked under this," she said with a seductive smile.

He stopped in his tracks, while Joe turned to Emily and raised an eyebrow.

"Joe," she warned, backing up. "You heard the doctor. I'm supposed to rest." She squealed as he grabbed her arm and started pulling her into him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dirk Benson apologized as he stepped through the doorway. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not interrupting," Emily called out, stepping out of Joe's reach.

"Yes, you are," Joe countered.

Dirk cleared his throat. They'd clearly made him a bit uncomfortable.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you, Nancy, that Penelope is able to have visitors. If you're up to it, I thought we might question her for a bit."

"I'm up to it," Nancy assured him. Emily giggled inwardly at the warning glance Nancy shot in Frank's direction. She was definitely going to give him a run for his money in the "who's in charge" department.

"Okay, I'll meet you in the hall in ten minutes," Dirk said, moving hastily toward the door.

"Great," Nancy agreed.

After Dirk left, Frank turned to her. "Nancy."

"No, Frank, I have to do this. Dirk will bring me back to the hotel." She looked over at him intently. "You guys figure out how we're going to trap Craig, all right?"

"Yeah fine," Frank agreed, sounding a bit reluctant. "I'll go get your scrubs."

Emily smiled as Frank opened the door to leave. Nancy had him twisted around her little finger already. He just didn't know it. She laughed out loud when she heard Joe say, before the door closed, "Glad she's not my girlfriend."

OOOoooOOO

Joe stood next to Frank outside the hospital's main entrance as they waited for a cab to take them back to their hotel. Frank seemed lost in thought. Joe leaned against one of the entry-way pillars. "What's up?" he asked his brother.

"Something's been nagging at me lately." Frank sat down on a marble bench. "And I'm not sure what to do about it."

Joe moved away from the pillar to join his brother. "Something about Nancy?"

Frank shook his head. "No." He glanced at Joe. "Something about Benson."

"What about him?"

"I don't know, exactly." He pointed toward a taxi as it came around the circular drive that marked the hospital's main entrance.

"Did he say something to you?"

"It's more like what he did." Frank stood and signaled the cab driver. "That wire he gave to Nancy. That's bothering me."

"You mean because he asked her to hide it?"

"Yeah. Even if a federal investigation is going on, he shouldn't have touched it." Frank walked toward the taxi. "He's covering up an attempted murder and hiding the weapon."

"And Nancy's an accessory now."

"Inadvertently," Frank reminded him as he opened the back door of the cab. "But, yes."

"What do you want to do about it?"

"I want to search his room, while he and Nancy are still at the hospital. Maybe his dressing room, too."

"Okay," Joe agreed, turning as a nurse brought Emily out of the hospital's main entrance in a wheelchair. "Let me get her settled in our room and then I'll meet you. I definitely want to find out if he's hiding something besides a little piece of wire."

OOOoooOOO

Nancy followed Dirk into Penelope Randolph's hospital room and quietly gazed at the actress's bed. Penelope was lying still, her eyes closed.

"Darn it," Nancy said, disappointed. "She's asleep."

"I'm no such thing," Miss Randolph replied, startling Nancy. "I'm just tired of these nurses coming in every five minutes to poke at me." She opened her eyes. "You're not one of them are you?"

Dirk smiled down at her. "No, Penelope, it's only your pesky co-star and a friend." He took Nancy by the arm and led her to the bed . "This is Nancy Drew."

"Oh yes, I remember her from the set this morning," she said. "Are you here for an autograph dearie, or are you one of those gosh-awful tabloid reporters who wants to snap a photo of me in my hospital bed and publish it for all the world to see?"

"Neither," Nancy told her. "I'm actually a private detective."

"Detective?" Penelope shifted in her bed to more of a sitting position. "Well, what on earth could you possibly want with me?"

Dirk sat at the foot of her bed. "Um, if you remember angel, someone tried to kill you this morning."

Penelope waved her hand. "Kill me? Dirk, I tripped. Fell down the stairs. Humiliated myself in front of everyone." She sighed. "I swear if Paul had those cameras running, I'll kick his ass."

Nancy knew she'd betrayed her surprise at Penelope's comment when Dirk smiled in her direction. "I told you she was feisty." He turned back to Penelope. "Listen, we took some liberties we probably shouldn't have after you got hurt. We searched your dressing room."

"You searched my... What on earth for?" Penelope sat up completely.

"We were worried about you," Nancy explained.

"And as it turns out, for good reason," Dirk said. "Nancy and her friend Emily almost got killed in there."

"What?" Penelope sounded incredulous and Nancy felt it was genuine.

"Someone turned on the kerosene space heater in there and blocked the vent on purpose," Dirk told her.

"Space heater? I don't own a space heater."

"I didn't think so," he continued. "Whoever it was wanted to be certain you weren't around anymore. The carbon monoxide levels in there were so high, Nancy and her friend passed out."

"And we think we know what's going on." Nancy held out the packet of letters. "Can you explain these to us?"

She waited for Penelope's reaction. Those letters were somehow the key to the entire art smuggling operation and she really hoped Miss Randolph could enlighten her as to how.

Penelope sagged back against her pillow. "I knew this wouldn't work," she said, tears forming in her eyes. "I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen."

"Well, why don't you tell us?" Dirk encouraged. "We're listening and we can help you."

OOOoooOOO

Frank popped the lock to Dirk's hotel room and he and Joe slipped inside. Wordlessly, the two of them split up and began rummaging through the actor's belongings. After a few minutes, Frank turned to his brother.

"Find anything?"

"Nothing unusual." He checked the top shelf of a closet. "Either he's clean or he's really good."

Frank nodded. "I don't see anything either." He stopped and ran his hand through his hair. "Maybe I'm just over-reacting." Or he was just over-reacting to having Nancy in danger. He sighed. He needed to learn how to not let his feelings for her overshadow his instincts as a detective. Making mistakes wouldn't help either one of them.

"Maybe," Joe shrugged. "Or maybe not." He picked up a tabloid magazine, hidden under a phone book. The headline read, "_Resort _Actor Gambling Away his Sorrows?"

Frank crossed the room and took it from him, leafing through it until he got to the story.

"Lead actor Dirk Benson from TV's _The Resort _was spotted last weekend at the high rollers' table in Las Vegas, losing money faster than his paycheck could replace it. Perhaps Mr. Benson was merely drowning his sorrows after his break-up with former co-star, Pamela Louise Johnson, or maybe it's a sign of bigger problems. _The Resort_, last season's ratings blockbuster, has now tumbled into third place, far behind its competition. Unless things improve, it looks like _The Resort _may be taking a permanent vacation in the near future."

Frank glanced up at Joe. "You think it means anything?"

"Not sure." Joe took the tabloid from him and scanned the article. "It could all be staged by the bureau who wants a logical reason for Dirk disappearing from Hollywood after this case is over. Or…"

"Yeah, it's the 'or' I'm worried about," Frank said with a sigh.

OOOoooOOO

Penelope clutched Dirk's hand tightly. "I have to tell someone. This has gotten way out of control." She shook her head. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"What wasn't, Miss Randolph?" Nancy prodded. She shifted from one foot to the other. She knew being impatient wasn't going to get her the information any faster, but she felt that deep down Penelope Randolph knew about the smuggled paintings. Frank would have handled her much better. Maybe he should have been here. Women loved him.

"You read my letters," she began, "so you know that my father was in possession of a great deal of art at the time the Nazis invaded my home. Fortunately, he was able to get it to a monastery. He thought that would be enough to protect it."

Penelope's eyes filled with tears. "It wasn't. You see, my father was very active in trying to help members of the Jewish community escape from the soldiers. Unfortunately, that meant that when the soldiers finally caught up with him, he and my mother were sent to a concentration camp. They died there six months before the war was over."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Nancy murmured.

"Penelope, that's awful." Dirk patted her hand. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that."

"I don't want to talk about that part of the story. Too painful," she said. "Anyway, after the war, I tried to find out what happened to my father's property and his art." She looked up at Dirk. "It was all gone. The monastery had been bombed and burned to the ground. Nothing was left."

"What did you do then?" Nancy asked.

Penelope shrugged. "I went back to England. I started doing theatre. It was very cathartic, and as a bonus, I was good at it." She smiled. "You know the rest of the story. I came to the States to seek my fame and fortune and here I am."

Dirk was thoughtful. "What started you searching for the art again?"

Penelope sighed. "I wasn't searching for it. Hadn't since I'd left England. Somehow Craig found out about my background. I still don't know how. He sent me letters. Told me he could help." She laughed. "You wouldn't think I'd be so naïve, but I was."

"Go on," Nancy prompted.

"Well, I agreed to meet with him. He said that he was in the 'art importing' business." She glanced at Dirk. "I didn't understand that meant art _smuggling_. So, anyway, I agreed to get him a job on the show as a prop master–"

"You can do that?" Nancy interrupted.

"I'm more powerful than I look, my dear," Penelope said with a smile. "So, I got him the job in exchange for his help in finding my paintings."

"Darling, what kind of excuse did Craig give you for needing a job on the show?" Dirk asked.

"He said that this way he could avoid customs," Penelope explained. "My paintings would raise all kinds of red flags at the border, but props from a TV show, packed together in huge crates, would not."

Dirk nodded. "Clever."

"Well, yes, of course, dear. Anyone would assume that props off a set were fakes, even if they did look like a stolen piece of art." Penelope waved her hand. "Of course, I didn't realize that he was smuggling all kinds of other stolen art in, as well as my father's paintings."

"So, he brings in your lost art," Nancy said slowly. "What does he get in return?"

"A few of the pieces that I wasn't interested in," she explained. "My father had rather eclectic taste, and I didn't want every painting. I told Craig he could have the others and sell them for whatever he wanted, or take the credit as a hero for recovering lost artifacts."

Penelope sighed and daubed at her eyes. "But now he tells me that he's going to keep doing this, and that if I say anything to the authorities, I'll be arrested and thrown in jail."

Nancy exchanged glances with Dirk and he leaned over and kissed Penelope's cheek. "That's not true, angel. You will not be going to jail."

"And we will stop him," Nancy assured her. "Don't you worry about that."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Thanks for the wonderful reviews, Kenna, Mrs. Frank, Jackie, Unobtrusivescribe and Virtute! Your comments put a smile on my face...as always! I'm curious to see what you think about this chapter. :-) Thanks again to everyone reading!

Chapter 18

"You know Frank," Joe began, tossing a grape into the air from the fruit basket in Frank's room, and catching it in his mouth. "I think we're approaching this all wrong."

"How so?"

"I think we need to put the art objects _back_ and see what Craig does with them." Joe scooped up another handful of grapes.

"You mean follow the art and see how he smuggles it out?" Frank asked, grabbing a bottle of juice from the mini-fridge.

"Yeah, then we'll really see how this operation works. Now that we've identified the pieces as genuine." Joe leaned back in his chair. "Don't you think that's the next step? I mean you can't get a man for smuggling if he doesn't have anything to smuggle."

"Well, I want to do more than just find this art," Frank agreed. "I want to bust this entire operation wide open."

"Likewise," Joe said. "So, how about we start replacing some art?"

"We'll have to go back to Benson's room and get it."

"Easier to ask forgiveness than permission," Joe said with a grin.

"Follow me," Frank said, as he walked toward the door of his room.

OOOoooOOO

Nancy stood with Dirk in the hospital waiting room discussing the case in hushed tones.

"Listen, I'm going to call in some protection for Penelope," Dirk said, moving over to the phone at the nurses' station. "I don't feel good leaving her alone after what happened this morning."

Nancy nodded. "And then I think we need to go back to the hotel and set a little trap for Craig Simpson."

"I can't wait to nail him on this," Dirk said, his features grim. "Hopefully he'll lead us to even bigger players than himself."

"Let's hope so," Nancy agreed.

"And you know what'll be even more fun?"

Nancy shook her head.

"Watching his face when he realizes the one taking him down is the 'pretty boy actor' he's hated since he got here."

Nancy laughed. "Shall I bring a camera?"

"Please," Dirk said, as he picked up the phone.

OOOoooOOO

Frank slipped back into the prop room carrying a cardboard box containing both Van Gogh paintings and the Degas statue with Joe right behind him.

"Where are you going to put these?" Joe hissed.

Frank looked around the room, then gestured to his brother. "Let's leave them right by his office door. He can't miss them, and he'll wonder who's screwing things up."

Joe nodded as they crept down the aisles of the room over to the makeshift office space. Frank put the box near the door, but not so close that it was obvious. He gestured to Joe and they moved down a nearby aisle to hide and wait.

"How do we know somebody will even show up?" Joe whispered.

"Why not?" Frank asked. "The set's closed for the day. It's the perfect time."

"Well, then how do we know they haven't already been here?"

Frank shook his head. "They haven't. The sign out sheet on the wall over there said the last crew guy took off only fifteen minutes ago."

"I hope you're right," Joe said as he adjusted his legs to a less cramped position. "Because I hate playing the waiting game."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."

OOOoooOOO

Nancy entered her hotel room. "Frank?" Her brow furrowed as she looked around the room. She peeked into the bathroom. "Frank?" Where could he be? Maybe with Joe. She grabbed the phone and dialed Joe and Emily's room.

"Hello?" Emily's voice was groggy.

"Em, it's Nance. Is Frank there?"

"Um, no, I don't think so," she said with a yawn. "I just woke up."

"Never mind, I'll be right there. Don't go anywhere."

Nancy hung up the phone and dashed out of her room.

OOOoooOOO

Emily stood and rubbed her eyes. She changed into shorts and a fitted t-shirt and opened the curtains to the brilliant afternoon sunshine. Looking out the French doors, past her balcony, the blue-green water beckoned to her. _I wish Joe and I could be on that beach right now. _

She turned around. Joe. Where was Joe? A piece of paper taped to the mirror hanging on the wall caught her eye. She pulled it down and read aloud, "Went investigating with Frank. Stay here and rest. Love you, Joe." Emily sighed. She guessed that answered the question about Frank, too.

A knock sounded on the door and Emily went to get it. As she did, the phone began ringing. She opened the door, handed the note to Nancy as she entered the room, then picked up the telephone.

"Hello?"

"Emily, this is Dirk. Listen, is anyone in your room?"

She laughed, "You mean besides me, I suppose. Yeah, Nancy's here. Hang on."

She handed the phone to Nancy, then sat down on her bed, anxious to find out exactly what was going on.

"Hello?," Nancy said as she put the receiver to her ear. "What? You're kidding? Okay, we'll be right there."

Emily swallowed hard as Nancy hung up the phone. "I-is it Joe? Did something bad happen?"

Nancy turned to her. "No, Em. That wasn't about Joe. Don't worry."

Emily sighed with relief as Nancy sat on the bed next to her.

"That was Dirk. He said when he got back to his room, the art was missing. He thinks someone stole it."

OOOoooOOO

Frank nudged Joe as he heard the door to the prop room swing open. The bellhop and the other men Frank had seen earlier entered, pushing along a large wooden crate.

"Okay, let's get this stuff packed up and out of here," the bellhop ordered. He walked to Craig's office, and barely avoided tripping over the box Frank had left there. "What the hell?"

He bent down to find the paintings and the statue inside. The bellhop shook his head. "I swear the man is off his rocker." He picked up the box and handed it to one of the guys standing behind him. "Make sure this gets in there, too."

Frank and Joe exchanged glances as they watched the men grabbing random items from the shelves. "Do you think that's more stolen art?" Frank whispered.

Joe shrugged. "How would I know?"

One of the men opened up a rolling garage door at the end of the room as the second man backed a pick-up truck inside. They added sawdust to the crate to cover the artwork, then nailed the lid on and loaded it into the back of the truck.

"Okay, we're out of here. The delivery needs to be made by five p.m. Got it guys?" the bellhop called. "I'll meet you at the market." He pressed a button on the wall to shut the garage door after the truck had driven away, then exited the prop room.

"That must be the place where I got jumped the other day," Joe remarked as he stood.

"Yeah. I say we follow them. Do you still have the keys for the rental car?" Frank asked.

Joe pulled them out of his pocket with a grin. "Right here."

OOOoooOOO

"Do you think this means Craig is on to you?" Nancy asked Dirk, as the two of them, along with Emily, headed downstairs to the prop room.

"I don't see how he could be." Dirk raked his hand through his hair. "I was so careful."

"I wish I knew where Frank and Joe were," Nancy said. "Did Joe say anything to you before he left, Em?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

Nancy smiled inwardly. Emily was clearly trying to be brave, but it was obvious that she was worried sick about Joe. More time around both Hardys would probably help her in that department. After the previous two cases Nancy had worked with them, she'd definitely learned that Frank and Joe could handle themselves well in any dangerous situation.

Dirk unlocked the prop room door and the three of them entered. He gestured toward Craig's office. Nancy went inside with Dirk while Emily stood guard.

"I don't even know what I'm looking for," Nancy said, rummaging through his filing cabinet.

"Me either," Dirk admitted. "Hopefully, we'll know it when we see it."

Nancy pulled out a file, and found it only contained set directions for scripts from _The Resort._

"Nancy?"

She turned around and saw Dirk picking up a note on Craig's desk. "What is it?"

"I think it's our clue."

Nancy took the paper which had a pencil drawing of a pineapple and the words, "Five p.m.". She looked up at Dirk. "I don't get it."

"I think it means the 'Pineapple Place,'" Dirk told her.

"That's where Joe went to drop off the Van Gogh the other day," Emily piped up from the office doorway.

"Maybe that's what this is about then," Nancy said.

Dirk shook his head. "It has today's date on it."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Nancy pushed by Dirk and out the door. "It must mean something. Let's find out what."

OOOoooOOO

Joe walked through the market stalls and over to the warehouse building in the rear with Frank at his side. Joe hit Frank's arm. "There's the truck."

They crept closer and watched the guys unload the crate onto a dolly. After a few moments, they returned to the truck and drove off with a wave to the bellhop.

"Two of us, one of him," Joe said. "I think those are pretty good odds."

"Or at least as good as they're going to get," Frank acknowledged.

"After you," Joe gestured, as they approached the warehouse door.

OOOoooOOO

Nancy craned her neck, looking in all directions, as Dirk pulled his jeep into the parking lot of the market.

"Okay, if they're getting something ready for shipping, it isn't going to be near these stalls," he said.

Nancy grabbed his arm. "What about there?" She pointed to the warehouse building.

Dirk looked at her. "I think I'm going to talk to the agency about hiring you when we're done with this case."

Nancy grinned. "Depends on what they'll pay me, she said as she exited the car.

"Now hang on, Nancy," Dirk began. "I know you're good, but you will need to listen to me and follow my lead on this. Understood?"

She knew from the look in his eyes, and the gun in his holster, that he meant business. She smiled. "Don't worry, Dirk. Even I know that I don't outrank the FBI. Yet."

Nancy paused as Emily came up beside them. "Maybe you'd better wait in the Jeep." _Because Joe will kill me, no questions asked, if you're with us when we approach the bad guys._

"What?" Emily responded. "No way. I want to come with you."

"Did you forget you're dating Joe Hardy?" Nancy asked. "Because I haven't. Besides, is it even legal to bring a civilian along on an operation?"

Dirk shifted uncomfortably. "Normally, I'd say you have to stay, Em. But I'm not sure you'll be any safer in the Jeep. Your room has already been ransacked. Someone on the wrong side may know who you are." He looked at Nancy. "I think she's safer with us." He patted his holster.

"Fine. But you explain that to Joe," Nancy said, pointing her finger at Dirk's chest.

Dirk smiled and began walking casually through the marketplace, with the girls on either side of him, until they reached the warehouse. He led them to a side door, then gestured for them to get behind him while he slowly opened it.

Nancy watched over his shoulder as he looked around. After a moment, he nodded his head and gestured for them to follow him inside. They crept down an aisle with empty wooden pallets stacked high on both sides. When Nancy had almost reached the end of the aisle, a loud commotion was heard in the warehouse.

"That was Joe's voice," Emily whispered, a worried look crossing her face.

The girls continued behind Dirk as they sneaked up to the last stack of pallets. Crouching low, Nancy saw Joe and Frank wrestling the bellhop to the ground.

"All right, that's enough," Joe yelled, pushing the man to the floor.

"It's all over with," Frank said, bending down to help his brother.

"I'll say it is." Craig Simpson walked over to Frank and Joe, a pistol drawn. "But not for Ben here. For you."

Dirk hurriedly pushed the girls back down the aisle of the warehouse.

"Nancy," he whispered. "Head down the length of that wall and when you get to the end of the room, knock over everything you can." He pulled out his own gun. "If we can surprise him, we can take him."

Nancy nodded and slipped away as quietly and quickly as possible.

OOO

"Emily, you stay right here. You understand?" Dirk stared into her green eyes. "Don't move, sweetie. I don't want them to even know you're with us."

She touched his arm. "Joe?"

"He's going to be fine." Dirk walked away from Emily and down another aisle to get a better position on Craig.

OOOoooOOO

"So," Craig said, as the bellhop scrambled up off the floor with a smirk on his face, "you mind telling me exactly who you are and what the hell you're doing here?"

_Shit_, Joe thought, as he exchanged glances with Frank. How did they not see this coming? He glared at Craig, but remained silent.

"Oh, so we're going to play that game, are we?" Craig gestured to the bellhop. "Get some rope. Our friends are going to be staying with us for awhile."

Ben hurried toward the door.

"Oh, and bring some gasoline, too," Craig called after him. "I have a sneaking suspicion there's going to be a warehouse fire starting in a few minutes."

A thunderous crash was heard from the far end of the building. _This is our chance,_ Joe thought, as a momentarily startled Craig looked away.

Joe took advantage of the distraction and lunged forward, grabbing the prop master around the waist and knocking him backwards. Frank stepped on Craig's wrist, causing him to release his weapon. Before he could grab it again, Frank kicked the gun across the warehouse floor.

"Don't move," Dirk ordered, as he stepped forward with the bellhop in hand. He pushed him down on the floor next to Craig. Joe grabbed the rope the bellhop was holding and began to tie up both suspects. "Great timing," he called out to Dirk.

"Yeah, and I did it all without a director and cue cards," Dirk said, keeping his weapon trained on the suspects.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Craig demanded, staring at Dirk.

Dirk looked at him with a smirk on his face. He pulled out his ID. "FBI Art Fraud Division. You don't know how long I've wanted to say that."

Craig seemed stunned. "You're a_ fed_?"

"Damn good, aren't I?" Dirk chuckled.

Craig gestured to Frank and Joe. "These guys, too?"

"We're private detectives," Frank explained.

"But we're just as good," Joe added.

Emily tentatively peeked out from the aisle where she had been hiding. Joe's heart dropped to the floor. "Baby, what are you doing here?" He didn't want her anywhere near this kind of situation. What the hell was Benson thinking bringing her here? Fed or no fed, Joe was going to let him have it as soon as this was finished.

"Nothing much," she said with a smile.

Dirk gestured for her to come over by him. "Emily is our art expert."

"Student," she corrected.

Dirk smiled. "Expert." He looked at Craig. "She's the one who uncovered and identified your Van Gogh."

Joe shifted and glared at Benson. Now he was identifying her to the criminals? Check the verbally "letting him have it", Joe was now going to kick his ass.

Craig sat sullenly, staring up at Dirk and Emily.

"Where is it?" Dirk asked him.

"In that crate," the bellhop answered, nodding toward a box a few feet away.

"I need to see the painting and verify that you are in possession of stolen artwork," Dirk said.

Frank grabbed a crowbar and pried off the top of the crate, pulling out the Van Gogh.

"Emily," Dirk said, still keeping his gun aimed at Craig and Ben. "Would you check to make sure it's genuine?"

Joe let out an irritated sigh as Emily gently examined both Van Gogh canvases. "Yes," she said, her eyes shining. "They're the ones."

"Good," Dirk replied as she slid them back into the crate.

OOO

In one swift motion, and before anyone realized what was happening, Dirk grabbed Emily with his free hand and pulled her into him. He held the gun against her head and said, "Now, if anyone makes one move, I will kill her."

Emily froze, not even comprehending what was happening. The barrel of the gun against her head was cold and hard. _He must be joking,_ she thought. _He wouldn't hurt me._

"Don't fight, don't scream, don't move," Dirk hissed in her ear.

Emily stood, trembling violently. She looked over at Frank and Joe, whose faces were unreadable. _Oh God, I'm going to die_.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **Thank you for the reviews, Leya, Mrs. Frank, Kenna, Unobtrusivescribe, and Virtute! They always put a smile on my face! Only one more chapter after this one. Thanks for sticking with it! LOL

Chapter 19

Nancy stopped as she heard Dirk's voice change. It was now angry, commanding_. _What was going on? She had run so far down to the other end of the warehouse, she couldn't make out what he was saying. Her instincts told her to stay hidden, that something had gone wrong. But what?

She moved silently between the aisles, not giving away her position, trying to get as close as she dared. She spotted Dirk between a row of pallets. Saw him holding the gun against Emily's temple. _Oh, no. No, no, not Dirk. He can't sell out. Not him. _Nancy felt hot tears spring to her eyes. _Damn it._ She took a deep breath to steady herself and looked for a weapon. A two by four with nails protruding from one end lay on top of a discarded pallet. She picked it up carefully and continued moving closer.

OOOoooOOO

Joe finally found his voice. "Leave her alone," he ordered. "I swear if you hurt her..."

Dirk chuckled. "You two get over against that wall and turn around," he ordered Frank and Joe.

They both hesitated and Joe was trying to mentally gauge the distance between himself and Benson. He knew he couldn't get there faster than the gun could discharge.

"Now!" Dirk shouted and Emily jumped, a sob escaping her.

Joe's mind was racing. He could see the fear in his girlfriend's eyes and it was killing him. He was going to stop this, and he would die doing it, if necessary. Right now he just needed to buy some time so he could think.

So Joe did the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life. He turned his back on Emily and walked with his brother to the wall.

"Frank," Joe hissed.

"Hang on Joe," Frank began. "I'm thinking. He doesn't want to hurt her. We just need to stay calm."

Easy for him to say. His girlfriend wasn't being held at gunpoint. Wait a minute. If Emily was here, that meant Nancy must be, too. Joe took a deep breath. _Come on, Nancy. We need you._

"All right," Dirk continued. "Now Emily, you're coming with me, honey." He gestured to the paintings. "Take those with you. They're our passport to a great life."

"You bastard!" Craig called out. "What the hell do think you're doing? This is my operation."

"I'm getting out of here," Dirk told him, slowly backing up and pulling Emily along with him.

Joe's stomach was churning as he watched Dirk out of the corner of his eye. The son of a bitch was hurting Emily. He had a tight grip around her waist and was dragging her along. Joe saw how carefully she was trying to hold the artwork in spite of it. He knew she wasn't going to let anything happen to those paintings.

"Not one of you moves until you count to a hundred, understand?" Dirk said as he continued to back up toward the door. "If I see any one of you before then, I will kill her."

"Frank," Joe whispered in a fierce tone. "I'm going for it. He's not leaving this building with Em."

"One second, Joe. Help is coming. Let's not risk Em or you getting hurt."

Joe looked up slightly as he caught a bit of movement to his left. He saw Nancy moving slowly toward them. He exhaled a sigh of relief and looked to Frank, who gave him a slight nod.

Dirk's voice rang out loudly. "Nancy, come out where I can see you!"

Joe watched Nancy quietly place the wooden plank on the floor, as close to Frank as she could, without Dirk noticing.

"I'm coming," she called loudly, her voice covering the sound of the plank being shoved hard in Frank's direction. "Do you have Simpson?"

She paused until the board was resting at Frank's feet.

"I'm right here," she said, moving out into the open, several feet away from Frank and Joe. Nancy's gaze moved from Dirk to Emily. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Dirk grinned at her. "No hard feelings, okay. And, uh, the bureau is going to have an opening in the Art Fraud division. You might want to look into it. I meant what I said. You're good."

"Why, Dirk? Why are you doing this?" Nancy asked, as Joe moved sideways slightly, covering Frank and allowing him to snatch up the plank when the time was right.

"No time for explanations, sweetie. It's how it has to be. I'm sorry."

As Dirk edged closer to the door, he lowered his pistol for a moment to turn Emily around. Frank moved like lightning, grabbing the piece of wood, raising it in both hands, and bringing it down over Dirk's head, as Nancy and Joe charged him at breakneck speed.

Joe grabbed Emily around the waist and pushed her down to the ground as the gun fired. Frank tackled a staggering Dirk and held him, while Nancy snatched up the pistol, now barely dangling from the actor's fingers. Dirk struggled briefly before losing consciousness and Frank snagged a roll of packing tape from the floor, deftly binding the actor's hands and ankles with it.

"Baby, are you hurt?" Joe's voice was frantic as he picked Emily up and looked her over. He noticed a trickle of blood running down her leg. "You're bleeding." He pushed her shorts up on her leg, looking for a gunshot wound.

"I'm fine," she said, exhaling deeply.

"But you're bleeding," he protested.

"From my knee hitting the concrete when you threw me."

He collapsed down to the ground, weak with relief, and hugged her to him. "Thank God."

Frank walked over to Nancy. "He's out cold. And I think he'll stay that way until the cops arrive."

Shaking, Nancy stepped into his arms. "Why did he do it, Frank? Why?"

Frank sighed. "It's complicated, honey." He kissed the top of her head. "Unfortunately, I think he became more 'Dirk Benson' than 'Steven Ross.'"

OOOoooOOO

Four hours later, the Hardys, Nancy and Emily finally finished giving statements, making identifications and undergoing interviews at the local police station. They were ushered into a small room and asked to wait until an official came to release them.

Joe couldn't remain still. He alternated between pacing back and forth and sitting on the couch next to Emily. He broke out in a cold sweat every time he recalled the image of Benson holding that gun to her temple. He needed to touch her every few minutes to assure himself she was really okay. He was sitting next to her at the moment, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other holding her hand tightly in his. He looked up as the door opened and an FBI agent entered the room.

"Hi, I'm Chris Sessions. Agent in charge of the Kingston office. Thank you all again for your help," he said, by way of a greeting. "It was invaluable."

Frank shook his hand. "We're just glad we were here. Have you gotten anything useful out of Simpson? Is he the leader of the art theft ring?"

The agent chuckled. "Well, Simpson isn't talking, but that bellhop sure is. He's had a clean record up until now and prison time isn't holding any appeal for him. He's singing like a canary."

"So, he's selling everyone out?" Joe asked.

"Completely," Agent Sessions said. "Although he's mainly confirming what we already knew. We have agents in France who should be rounding up the ring-leaders of this operation, as we speak." His eyes touched on everyone in the room. "We couldn't have done this without you though. Benson had this investigation completely stalled because of his scheme."

Frank sighed. We still fell right into Benson's trap though. He was the one who set us up, wasn't he?"

Agent Sessions nodded grimly. "Yeah, but don't feel bad, you weren't the only ones he fooled. He's very good at what he does."

"What charges are you holding him on?" Joe asked. If he had his way, there would be enough to keep Benson in prison for the rest of his life. In solitary. In the dark. With elevator music playing all hours of the day and night.

"Craig Simpson and the hotel bellhop are under arrest for smuggling stolen artwork, bribery, the attempted murder of Miss Chandler, Miss Drew and Miss Clark, assault with a deadly weapon, the list goes on," Sessions said with a sigh. "Mr. Benson...er, Ross...is under arrest for attempted kidnapping, attempted robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, and whatever else we can come up with."

"Did he say why he did it?" Nancy asked.

"He hasn't said much," Sessions replied. "He knows his rights. But we found out a few things on our own."

"Like what?" Joe demanded. He was still seething over everything that had happened, and the guilt he was feeling over trusting someone who had tried to hurt his girlfriend was overwhelming.

"Like the fact that _The Resort_ has been cancelled," the agent replied. "Benson found out a couple of days ago."

"So?" Nancy said. "Wouldn't he just get another assignment?"

"Yes," Sessions replied. "Unfortunately, Mr. Benson had been living the high life. Higher than his FBI salary alone would cover." The agent gave them a wry smile. "He also had exorbitant gambling debts."

"So the article in the tabloid was true. The pressure got to him and he saw the paintings as a way out," Frank guessed.

"What article?" Nancy asked.

"We found it right before we went to the market. Unfortunately, we didn't have any time to look into it before Benson made his move," Frank explained.

And that was what bothered Joe the most. The clue had been right in front of him and he hadn't been able to act quickly enough to protect the woman he loved. He stood and began pacing again.

"I'll bet he was going to try and keep the paintings he had in his room and sell them himself," Joe said. "He could have easily said they'd been stolen by the smugglers and no one would have been the wiser."

Frank grinned. "Yeah, except we stole them first to plant them back in the prop room."

"That forced his hand," Nancy said. "He saw his chance in the warehouse and he took it."

Sessions nodded. "He had two tickets to Rio on him. Passports, fake IDs, you name it."

"_Two_ tickets?" Nancy asked.

"One for him and one for Miss Clark here," the agent nodded toward Emily.

"That bastard!" Joe's face flushed with anger and he watched as Frank shot him a warning look. Joe didn't care. If he got the chance, he was going to make sure Dirk Benson spent the first six months of his prison term in the infirmary.

"He, um, wants to say something to the girls," Sessions said.

Joe snorted. "You've got to be kidding." _Like there's any chance in hell I'm going to let that happen._

Sessions looked toward Nancy and Emily. "I told him I would see if you were interested in listening to him."

"I want to hear what he has to say." Nancy folded her arms across her chest.

"Me, too," Emily said softly.

"What?" Joe was incredulous. "Honey, why?"

Emily shrugged. "I need to hear why he did this, Joe. In his own words."

Joe stared into his girlfriend's eyes. She was still afraid, he could see that. But she was clearly determined as well. He wasn't going to win this one. He sighed in resignation as Emily stood. The agent pointed to the room behind him, on the other side of a glass partition.

"They'll bring him in there. I'll go with you." He looked at Frank and Joe. "You two can stay right here and watch everything."

"Damn straight we will," Joe said, turning a chair to squarely face the window. And if looks could kill, Joe was going to make sure Dirk Benson hit the floor as soon as he made eye contact.

Dirk was led into the room, his hands and legs shackled. Sessions brought Nancy and Emily to the entrance of the room, escorted them in, then stood between them and Dirk, while two additional officers stood behind the suspect.

Frank sat in a chair observing the girls with curiosity. If Nancy didn't rip Benson to shreds he'd be lucky. She clearly meant business. Frank smiled. He was proud of her. She worked hard at what she did and she did it as well as any other detective he'd ever known. And now she was his detective. He smiled more broadly at that thought.

He watched as she stared down Benson from her end of the room. Dirk squirmed under her gaze. Maybe she should look into interrogation. Frank doubted any suspect would hold out for too long with Nancy Drew leading the questioning. Carson's attorney skills had clearly rubbed off on her.

Frank turned to Joe. "Glad I'm not Benson. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of either one of those looks." He gestured to Nancy, whose face was hard and angry, and then to Emily, whose eyes were full of hurt and bewilderment.

"Me neither," Joe agreed.

OOOoooOOO

Dirk cleared his throat and looked up at Nancy and Emily. "I'm sorry, girls. I'm so sorry. I, um…I never meant to hurt either one of you. Or scare you," he added, looking straight into Emily's eyes.

Nancy snorted. "That's priceless, Dirk." She gestured wildly with her arms. "Let's see, you lied to us, you purposefully used us, you got us to do all your dirty work, and, to top it all off, you held a gun to Emily's head and threatened to kill her."

Frank and Joe had been right all long. This guy was a total jackass. She smiled inwardly. She'd need to be a little better about trusting Frank's instincts. Apparently, they were more on the money than hers were.

"You've got to believe me, that wasn't my intention in the beginning." Dirk dropped his head. "I just couldn't think of another way out." He looked up sharply. "And I never would have hurt Emily."

Nancy leaned forward, her hands resting on the conference table in the room, and stared at him. "Oh, no? Well, guess what? You already did." She looked at him coldly. "You jerk. How many nightmares do you think she's going to have now because of you?"

Not to mention how many nightmares Joe was going to have. Nancy had never seen such terror in the younger Hardy's eyes as she did when Dirk was holding that gun on Emily.

"Why did you do it?" Emily asked.

Dirk glanced at the police officers and the agents and appeared to be choosing his words carefully. "I never meant to hurt you. I really care about both of you. You've got to believe me."

Nancy shook her head, disgusted. He was obviously trying to save his own ass. "Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it." She looked at Emily. "Come on, let's get out of here. I don't want to waste any more time on him."

Emily turned away, then looked back sadly at Dirk. "I trusted you."

Dirk dropped his head onto his hands and wept as the girls exited the room.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews, Leya, Mrs. Frank, Jackie and Kenna! And now...the last chapter. Thanks for sticking with it to the end. LOL And I really appreciate everyone who took the time to leave feedback and review! I loved reading them! Thanks again!

Chapter 20

"Okay, a little more this way." Joe had a tight grip on Emily's hand.

Emily, her eyes closed and a smile on her face, followed him willingly along the stone path. "Are we almost there?"

Joe turned back to look at her. "No peeking," he ordered. "And, yes, we're just about there." He stopped and let go of Emily's hand.

"Can I look now?"

"Almost."

Emily felt Joe come up behind her and slip his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him.

"Okay, open your eyes."

She blinked as she took in the scene in front of her. They were standing in front of a private cabana with a thatch-covered roof surrounded by the most densely green foliage she had ever seen. Hibiscus and Bird of Paradise bloomed all around, injecting vivid, brilliant color into the landscape, while a man-made stream gurgled alongside the entire area.

Emily stepped into the cabana, glanced down at the chaise lounge for two, covered with white linens, then looked up at the strands of tiny white lights illuminating the ceiling. She turned to Joe who was watching her reaction with a hopeful smile on his face.

"Joe, this is so beautiful," she said in a hushed tone. She fingered the gauzy netting, tied around the four pillars at each corner of the structure, then turned to the rattan cart that was poised next to the chaise. It held several silver dome-covered trays, as well as an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne. "Is all of this for us?"

"No," he said, taking her in his arms. "All of this is for you."

Emily looked at him quizzically. She hoped he still wasn't worrying about everything that had happened with Dirk the day before. It had taken her a long time to calm him down after they'd left police headquarters. She hated that he felt guilty for what went wrong and that he'd completely blamed himself for all of it.

She sighed inwardly. She and Nancy were going to have a tough road ahead of them if they wanted to curb the Hardy overprotective streak that ran through both Frank and Joe, but she felt up to the challenge. Much to her surprise, she was starting to love what Joe did for a living, especially when it melded with what she loved, and the danger aspect didn't frighten her nearly as much as it used to. Art detectives…hmm, she'd probably better put that suggestion on hold for awhile.

Joe kissed her forehead and smiled down at her.

"This was how I had originally planned on telling you that I am totally and completely in love with you." He sighed. "Then I messed it all up when our room got ransacked."

Emily giggled and touched the tip of his nose teasingly. "You did not mess it up. I thought the way you told me was perfect." She tilted her head to one side. "Although I am not opposed to any of this, mind you."

She took Joe by the hand, and with a teasing look, led him to the chaise lounge. "Get comfy," she instructed, as she peeked under the lids of the silver trays.

He leaned back on the pillows, stacking his hands beneath his head. "I'm liking this." he said with a grin. "But, I'm supposed to be the one doing the spoiling, you know."

She slid onto the chaise lounge next to him. "You can, in a little while." Close your eyes," she said with a seductive smile.

He obeyed, and Emily placed a double dipped chocolate strawberry up to his lips.

"Mmmm..." Joe took a big bite, then grabbed her and pulled her into him for a fruity kiss.

Emily giggled and pulled away, licking her lips. "Juicy." She giggled again. "Want some more?"

"Yeah, I want some more." He raised his eyebrows suggestively at her.

"Joe," she warned as he leaned over and took the strawberry from her. He tossed it to one side, and swept her into a dramatic embrace, laying her down on the soft cushions and kissing her passionately.

"I love you, Joe," Emily whispered. "I love you so much."

He groaned, and pulled her into him more tightly. His lips covered her hers, kissing her longingly and deeply. "Emily," he breathed. "Mmmm, I love you." His kisses trailed from her neck over to her throat. "Love you" he whispered, letting his lips wander down the deep, v-neck of her sundress. His breath was warm against her soft skin, and she shivered at the sensation. "Love you."

"Joe?"

"Hmmm?" He kissed her tenderly at the v-neck of her dress, then let his lips travel back up slowly and languorously to her neck.

She ran her fingers through his hair. "Joe?"

"What is it, baby?" he murmured against her neck.

"Is that a gun in your pocket?"

Joe dissolved into laughter and lifted his head to look at her smiling face. He kissed her soundly on the lips. "No. But thanks for reminding me." He sat up and reached into the front pocket of his khaki shorts and smiled as he pulled out a black velvet jewelry box.

Emily's eyes widened and she leaned up on her elbows. "What's that?"

"A present." He helped her to sit, then handed it to her with a kiss on the cheek. "Open it, baby."

She didn't know what to think as she lifted the lid of the rectangular-shaped box. "Oh, Joe," she breathed. A small, white gold, heart shaped pendant, its center filled with diamonds, sparkled on a velvet cushion. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. And he was giving it to her. She swallowed hard. He was the most amazing man she'd ever met and she couldn't believe how lucky she was to have him in her life.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "It's beautiful."

"Oh honey, don't cry." Joe hugged her to him, then took the box from her. "I want to see it on you." He slipped it around her neck, fastening it, while Emily held her hair out of the way. He dropped a kiss on the nape of her neck then said, "Let me see."

She turned to him, unshed tears still brimming in her eyes. She touched the heart, with a trembling hand, then reached for him. "Thank you. I love it."

He held her close, then laid back down, taking her with him. "And I love you."

Emily giggled. "Did you pick this out yourself?"

"Of course," he said with a smile. "Actually, the saleslady helped me." He traced his finger along her cheek, brushing away a tear. "But I told her I wanted something that would show the woman I love how she's captured my heart."

Tears sprang to Emily's eyes again. "Oh, Joe." Wordlessly she pulled him close to her and kissed him deeply.

OOOoooOOO

Frank and Nancy were strolling along the beach, arms wrapped around each other's waist, the surf occasionally lapping at their ankles and foaming around their bare feet.

"Oh, Frank, this is so beautiful," Nancy said, gazing at the pink and orange hues beginning to color the sky, as the sun started its descent into the horizon.

"Yes, it is," he agreed, admiring her vivid blue eyes and the soft curl of her strawberry-blonde hair as it rested on her shoulders.

She blushed. "I don't mean me."

"I do." He stopped and pulled her into him. "I have loved being here with you."

"Me, too." She closed her eyes and rested her head against Frank's bare chest. His strong, muscular chest. Nancy let herself relax and marveled over how much she enjoyed the feeling of safety and protection his strength gave her. "In spite of all the nastiness that went on."

He chuckled and dropped a kiss on top of her head. "Yeah, in spite of all that. But hey, the Feds gave us an extra four days here on the house. That makes up for some of it." He leaned back and took her hand. "Come on."

He led her to a secluded stretch of beach around the bend, where a picnic basket and large blanket spread on the sand were waiting for them.

"Frank," Nancy breathed. It was beautiful. Two champagne glasses were arranged next to an ice-filled bucket on the edge of the blanket, and the basket was overflowing with good things to eat. She smiled up at him. "Frank Hardy, behind all of your efficiency and pragmatism, beats the heart of a true romantic."

"Shh." He grinned at her. "Don't tell anyone. You'll ruin my reputation."

Nancy stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I love it." She took his hand and led him to the blanket, kneeling down. "Are you hungry?"

Frank looked at her slyly as he joined her. "Yes, but not for food. That can wait." He reached over and took her into his arms, then fell backwards, pulling her down on top of him.

She bent her head forward and Frank met her mouth with his. Nancy ran her hands over his chest and up into his hair as he deepened the kiss.

She moaned softly as he slipped his hands underneath her cover-up, resting them on her bare back, between her bikini top and bottom. Sensation exploded within her at his touch. His fingertips caressed her tenderly and Nancy pressed herself into him, wanting more. She had started this case more than a little intimidated by him. But now she knew that she wanted nothing more than to spend every waking moment with Frank Hardy. And even the moments when she wasn't awake. Sleeping next to him was heavenly. She smiled as the kiss ended.

"Why do you always have this effect on me?"

"What effect?" Frank grinned.

"You make me weak in the knees. You always have. It's not fair, Hardy."

"What are you talking about?" He reached his hand around her neck and pulled her back down for another passionate kiss.

Nancy sighed reluctantly as they broke apart. "Ever since we met in Transylvania. When I saw you standing in my hotel room, I could hardly say anything to you."

He laid his head back on the blanket. "Well, as I recall it, you flipped me over and threw me down to the ground on my back." He leaned up on his elbows. "Not very romantic, Drew. Plus, you scared the hell out of Joe."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't want to be taken advantage of. And I thought that's what you were trying to do."

"Oh, yeah?" Frank grinned at her. "Are you getting that same feeling now?" He pulled her against him, bringing his lips close to hers. "Because that's exactly what I'm trying to do at the moment." He kissed her longingly.

"Oh, you are, are you?" she whispered, her lips close to his.

"I most definitely am." Frank's lips met hers in another hot, open-mouth kiss, as he held her tightly and rolled so that he was now on top of her. He broke away and looked down at her. "So what do you think of that?"

Nancy reached up and traced his cheek and jaw with her finger. "I think I'm the luckiest girl on the face of the earth."

THE END


End file.
